Beatrice and I (But mostly me)
by ButterflyBillarious
Summary: This is what happens when I fall asleep and end up in the Divergent world. I go crazy! Tris is my cousin, Peter and Eric have a crush on me. I'm acting insane as usual! And Tris and Four are starting to have a relationship. Rated M for future lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: This is what happens when I stumble upon the book of Divergent on the internet and then find out it's a movie. I get obsessed! So, this is what would happen if me and my (I wish) cousin Beatrice/Tris both select the faction Dauntless. She goes normal and I go crazy! Let's find out what happens.)**

Chapter 1:

**Normal Pov**

During Gym class, as I wait patiently, but grudgingly, to do my laps, I balance my hands in my lap. Everyone around me, my fellow classmates, are tapping their feet excitedly. Across from me, two girls are practicing a cheer routine as they wait for their turn to make four laps around the gym. I don't like it. I hate Gym. Usually, while I'm doing the work I am forced to do to keep from failing this class, I allow myself to think of cutting my wrists softly and letting the blood fall onto the floor. That is what I'd prefer to do over Gym. But I'm scared of bleeding out before I can cause the world even a little bit of misery, so I refrain. I look up at the long four stool table where my two Gym Teachers sit, looking out on us like dogs. I am not a dog. If anything, I am a silent and angry wolf, waiting for her chance to strike. My fellow classmates are fools. They are just simpleminded fools, waiting for their awesome adulthood. They should live it up while they can, because this is all there is. The bleachers are long, stretching almost wall to wall from left to right, which stop at least… Ten feet away from the exit doors on either of their opposite sides. On either side is a desk and a chair, perfect for me to hide out for the hour and fifteen minutes I could be spending actually learning something, instead of doing _jumping jacks_.

When my two Gym teachers look away from the students all over the gymnasium excited and simple, I stand up and bolt for the desk directly in front of me. When I reach the desk, I peek my head around the bleachers. My gym coaches hadn't seen me, but my fellow students merely look away from me. None of them know me, except for a small friend of mine next to my squad. He sits quietly, conversing with his friends. I don't have friends in this class, or know any of the rest for that instance. I don't like children my age, but its hard to hate him like I hate the rest. He's too kind to me, and I only see him in Gym, math, and Science class. So I classify him as a friend, and leave it like that.

As I sit in the seat by the desk, I press my back closer to the wall, trying to relax. I think about my friends back in homeroom. I'm the only one who has to go out for cycles; they all take theirs with the seventh graders in the morning. So while their in Homeroom watching the Amazing Spiderman move, I'm in Gym, trying to be invisible and biting my time. I had stashed my books in the desk, so I took out Divergent. It was the smallest, and I could use a refresher. So I lean closer to the book, lay it on the desk, and then burn a hole in the cover with my eyes, letting myself be lost in the story.

…

I don't know how. And I don't know why. But my brain does this to me sometimes. I must have fallen asleep at my desk, because sometimes when I sleep, my unconsciousness is stronger then my consciousness. I look to my left, and again to my right. There are people standing near me, all in a line. My eyes adjust, and I bite my lip in excitement. The building I'm on forms one side of a square with three other buildings. In the center of the square is a huge hole in the concrete. I can't see what's at the bottom of it. I smirk. This is Divergent. I look directly to my left when someone grabs my hand comfortingly. We are all standing at the edge of the cliff, and all you have to do is jump off. You land safely onto a net. Cool. When I look at the person who grabbed my hand, I come face to face with Tris. Wow.

"Several stories below us is the members' entrance to our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first." Max smirked. I grinned.

"I'll go first!" I yell arrogantly, knowing already what is to happen. I can't wait until I meet Tobias! Squeal! Everyone turns to me with a gasp, and there is widen fear and traces of admiration and a little bit of jealousy in Beatrice's eyes.

"Its okay, its just a scare tactic. You'll land safely at the bottom." She says, murmuring so low only I can hear it. The leader off to my right walks along the ledge, smirking at us all. "Thanks dude." I nod my head off to her, and Max starts to talk.

"Well, well, well." He claps slowly, and I let go of Tris's hand. I turn back to the crowd, and I can't help but smirk. "I'm not afraid of death." I wink at a boy across from me. He has green eyes. I wonder if its Will. His cheeks burn red as I turn back to the ledge. Bounding forward, I don't even stop to look over the ledge. I jump as far as I can, and everyone gasps when I go spin forward through the air around and around, sailing through the air towards the ground.

"Jules!" I hear Tris shout, and I wonder vaguely how she knew my name. But I bite back my retort as I go spinning down and around. My long black hair spirals towards the sky as I flip upside down and reach out. My heart is pounding so fast I feel its in my throat. I've never had adrenaline like this. Its amazing!

I hit the net hard, and I roll over on my back, letting hysterical laughs escape my lips. This isn't the first time I've been in a Fictional story coma. Hunger Games, Harry Potter, now Divergent? I'm awesome!

"Hey." I heard, and I stop laughing so that I can turn to face whoever grabbing me off the net. I can't help it, I laugh again. I can tell its Eric by all the piercings all over his face. He grabs me bridal style and pulls me off the net, smirking absently to himself as he places me on the floor. "Are you okay? You look a little insane-!"

"That's what they all say." I chuckled darkly, patting him on the shoulder as I strut pass him into a congratulating flood of Dauntless. I try to figure out which one is Four, but its nearly impossible without seeing his back. I'll just have to wait. Behind me, as I let myself be pat on the back by a bunch of cheering Dauntless, there was a high pitched screamed as someone else fell onto the net. It was Trish. A man right next to me patted my back, and then strode over to her. He was young… Oh my gosh! Four pulls her of the net! Just! Like! In! The! Book! Lauren, right next to me, was in my ear.

"I would say your Dauntless, judging by your clothes, but what Faction were you in before?" Lauren asked, and Eric leaned closer to hear my answer. "I… I…" I said, my cheeks burning brighter. I wasn't in a Faction. But… The Erudite do chose Intelligence and Knowledge over everything else. I agree with them. "I was Erudite." I smiled, and a smirk spread over Eric's face. "Really, me too. Why'd you leave, you weren't smart enough?"

"No, in fact, I'd say I have the highest IQ in my class. I left, because I was fed up with their simple minded activities. I have a knack for courage and bravery. There are a lot of things I'd do that others are to afraid to." I murmured, smirking dirtily at him. He raised a pierced eyebrow, and there was a hungry look on his face.

"First Jumper-!" What's your name?" A boy asked, and I smiled. "Juliunna Malfoy." I lied with a smirk.

"**First Jumper! Juliunna Malfoy from Erudite!"** He yelled. The room burst into cheers again, and I was half dragged, half fighting through the crowd to get to Tris. "Second jumpers a stiff!" Eric shouted, and I couldn't help but chuckle. He talked so funny! But when I laughed, he thought it was at his joke, and so he threw an arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze like we were good friends or something. He's cool.

"**Second Jumper! Tris Prior from Abnegation!" **He shouted, and Tris walked over to me, trying not to walk too slow or too fast, in a successful attempt to be emotionless and brave around the other Dauntless. "You know this girl?" Eric asked, taking a his arm off me and I nodded. "Yeah sort of-!"

"Sort of? We're cousins!" Tris snapped at Eric, as if he was the one who doubted our relation. I still doubted it. "Ooh stiffs angry." Eric said, throwing his hands up in mocking reference, and I looked to Tris with a raised eyebrow.

"Cousins-!"

"Don't act like you don't know me." Tris giggled, and then took my arm. She guided me away from Eric, and suddenly her face as sullen and hateful. "That was embarrassing." She muttered, and we leaned up against the net. I looked up just as Christina hit the net. We cheered along with the rest of the Dauntless as she was helped off the net. "Third Jumper Christina-!"

"So who's my mother again?" I asked Tris, and she smiled in confusion. "You know who she is." Tris smirked.

"What?!"

"You never ask stupid questions, what's Dauntless doing to you? We've been here for only four minutes… Its also changed your clothing style. The real Juliunna Malfoy would never wear clothes like that." She said, poking me in the neck. I looked down at my attire. Its changed. Instead of my baggy gym clothes, I'm wearing a tight black t shirt, and tight black jeans. The shirt is at least two sizes too small!

"Now I know why Eric was staring at me." I snorted, and Christina joined my side. "What's up?" She smiled, and then looked to me with a speculating eyebrow. "Who are you?" She asked, and I opened my mouth to talk. I hate it when this happens. My mouth feels dry, and I'm nervous. Bold people anger me.

"I… I…"

"She's my cousin, Juliunna. " Tris explains, and I nod with a smile. "Yep, Tris's cousin. That's me."

"Well nice to meet you Juliunna. Wow that's a pretty long name. How about I just call you Jules."

"Its only got four syllables." I mumbled under my breath, and Tris bumped me in the side with her elbow.

"Don't be rude." She muttered, and I shrugged. "Nice to me you Christina. Or should I call you Chris on the account that your name is so long. I mean really, three syllables. What were your parents thinking?" I drawled sarcastically, and Christina went as pink in the face as her dark skin tone would allow her.

"Sorry." She muttered, and I smirked at Tris.

"See, that's all you have to do. Demand respect." I crossed my shoulders. Christina looked at me for a second, and then frowned. "Your from Erudite aren't you?"

"How'd you know?" I said, barely glancing in her direction. She shrugged her shoulders sarcastically. "I don't know. You make me feel stupid."

"I have that effect on people." I said, and when the last person had dropped into the net, Eric looked over his shoulder at us.

"Hey ladies, lets save gossip time for the showers! Lets get a move on!" He shouted, cupping his hands together. In the book, Eric was much more serious and evil sounding. I guess you have to really want to like him in order to get to know his hidden traits.

"He's scary." Christina noted, and I smirked as we followed the people lining up along the room. "Really? Because I think he's hot."

"Ew!" Tris snapped, turning to me with a shocked look. Christina however, smirked at me. "Really, what do you like about him? The fact that he has entirely too many tattoos or the fact that he has entirely too much ear piercings?" Christina smirked, and I scowled at her. I don't like her. At all. She's too simple minded. Damn Candor.

"Well lets see. I don't think he has too much of anything. He's entirely gorgeous from bottom to top. His features are prominent and handsome. He has a soft nose-!"

"You touched his nose?" Christina whispered with a dry chuckle, and I just had to correct myself.

"Well… Not yet. But I meant to say that he has very soft skin." I nodded at her, and she smiled absently. "Yeah, because that just makes so much sense." I growled at that, and Tris sighed. "Will you two stop arguing?" She asked with a sigh. And I couldn't help but smirk.

"Sure-!" I was stopped abruptly as a tall initiate pulled me from Tris's side, and I was engulfed into a large wall of muscle. "Hey!" I snapped. And heard a chuckle from the boy who had grabbed me. Tris and Christina both grabbed my shoulder, and abruptly pulled me back.

"Sorry." The initiate said, arrogantly running his hand through his fluffy blonde hair. "But your just so approachable, I was curious what you would do if I grabbed you-!"

"Well that's not weird at all." I snapped sarcastically. Tris pulled me along faster in an attempt to get away from this very familiar looking guy. A boy and girl, who were standing behind him, snickered at us. He strode faster until he was in step with me. "So, your name is Juliunna?"

"Yep." I shrugged with a small smile. Tris glared at him, but he paid her no mind. "I'm Peter." He said, and I tripped on my feet. He grabbed the back of my shirt before I hit the ground, and managed to pull me back to my feet.

"Thanks. Your name is Peter you say?" I drawled. I loved Peter! Even if he was described as a jerk and a soulless retarded jerk. I know he takes pride in hurting and fighting people, but the thought makes me turn sky high. He looks like Alexander Ludwig. Peter just made sexiest man of the year.

"Yeah, have we seen each other in school or something?" He asked with a large flex of his arms.

"I can definitely say that I've seen you in school." I smirked, because it was true! I read Divergent and looked up pictures of him on the internet! I've seen him in school.

I guess that kind of counts. He smiled at me arrogantly. "I don't think you go to our school. I would've notice a pretty girl like you." Peter drawled out, and before I could retort, Four looked back at Peter with a small glare on his face. Peter had currently been laughing aloud when I rolled my large dark brown eyes at him.

Lauren and Four lead us down a narrow tunnel. The walls are made of stone, and the ceiling slopes, so I feel like I am descending deep into the heart of the earth. The tunnel is lit at long intervals, so in the dark space between each dim lamp, I fear that I am getting lost until a shoulder bumps mine. In the circles of light I am safe again. The Erudite looking boy in front of me stops abruptly, and I smack into him, hitting my nose on his shoulder. I stumble back and rub my nose as I recover my senses. The whole crowd has stopped, and our three leaders stand in front of us, arms folded. "This is where we divide," Lauren says. "The Dauntless-born initiates are with me. I assume you don't need a tour of the place." She smiles and beckons toward the Dauntless-born initiates. They break away from the group and dissolve into the shadows.

Up ahead Four looks at us, looking busy and important. Eric must have left. Because he's definitely not here. "Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor," he says. And then flips his floppy straightened hair over his ear. "My name is Four."

Christina snorts. "Four? Like the number?" "Yes," Four says, raising an eyebrow at her. "Is there a problem?"

"No." Christina says, shaking her head nervously.

"Good. We're go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It—"

Christina snickers. "The Pit? Clever name." Four walks up to Christina and leans his face close to hers. Hi s eyes narrow, and for a second he just stares at her. Here we go. She deserves it anyway.

"What's your name?" he asks quietly. "Christina," she squeaks back at him.

"Well, _Christina_, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction," he hisses. I smirk.

"The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?" She nods. Four starts toward the shadow at the end of the tunnel. The crowd of initiates moves on in silence. "What a jerk," she mumbles. "I guess he doesn't like to be laughed at," Tris replies, and I just can't help but intervene.

"I don't think he's a jerk. You started it by insulting his name, and then insulting the training room that you may or may not be living permanently in. To each his own Christina." I snapped at her, and up ahead I noticed that as Four reached the front, he tilted his head back to me in thanks. Christina and Peter scowled, but the difference between them was that Christina stayed silent.

"What, do you like him or something?" He grumbled, and I answered immediately.

"He's officially one of my favorite characters. I only have his name written on every one of my diaries and folders and notebooks-!"

"But you didn't even know he existed till two minutes ago." Christina whispered quietly in my ear as we all continued down the cave hall.

"Yeah, yeah." I shrugged her off.

Four pushes a set of iron double doors open, and we walk into the place he called "the Pi t." "Oh," whispers Christina. "I get it." "Pit" is the best word for it. It is an underground cavern so huge I can't see the other end of it from where I stand, at the bottom.

Uneven rock walls rise several stories above my head. Built into the stone walls are places for food, clothing, supplies, and leisure activities. Narrow paths and steps carved from rock connect them. There are no barriers to keep people from falling over the side. A slant of orange light stretches across one of the rock walls. Forming the roof of the Pit are panes of glass and, above them, a building that lets in sunlight. It must have looked like just another city building when we passed it on the train. Blue lanterns dangle at random intervals above the stone paths, similar to the ones that lit the Choosing room. They grow brighter as the sunlight dies. People are everywhere, all dressed in black, all shouting an d talking, expressive, gesturing. I don't see any elderly people in the crowd. It sucks that they get sent away to live faction less when they turn too old. I look to my left at Tris, and she and all the other initiates are staring around with barely conceived awe.

"If you follow me, I'll show you the chasm." Four bellows. And I break away from Christina Peter and Tris and lunge forward. I lightly jog until I'm off to the left of Four, far enough that it looks like I'm my own group, and close enough that I can't get in trouble for.

"Do you even know where your going?" Four turns to me with an inconspicuous smirk, walking faster so he can keep in step with me.

"Yes. Its right up there." I smiled at him, and the both of us stop at the railing where the water is on the bottom. We turn to face the initiates who are all looking curious at us.

"You want to go over there where you have a better spot to listen?" Four asks, raising an eyebrow at me, and I smirk.

"Nope. Here, let me get this for you though. **The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!**" I yell loudly and seriously, and all the new initiates watch me with attentiveness. Four raises an eyebrow at me.

"**A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned!" **I bellowed, and Four clapped his hands slowly and sarcastically with a smirk on his face.

"How'd you… I was going to say that." He said, shaking his head with a chuckle. I laughed.

"Yeah, but I said it first." I shrugged, and all the initiates moved forward to peer over the dangerous ledge. Many of them were talking excitedly. Tris and Christina were peering at Four and I curiously, and I rolled over and leaned my elbow on the slippery bar.

"So, what's it like working in the control room?" I asked, and he shrugged, running a hand through his head full of handsome hair. I want to do that!

"Well, you have a lot of camera's over Dauntless, so I see a lot of things I wish I didn't see." He chuckled, and I couldn't help but giggle. "Okay, follow me again!" Four shouts, cupping his hands over mouth to make the vibrations of his voice go louder and deeper.

Four leads me and the group of initiates across the Pit toward a gaping hole in the wall. The room beyond is well-lit enough that I can see where we're going: a dining hall full of people and clattering silverware. When we walk in, the Dauntless inside stand. They applaud. They stamp their feet. They shout. The noise surrounds me and fills me. Christina and Tris smile, and a second later, so do I. We look for empty seats. Christina and I discover a mostly empty table at the side of the room, and I find myself sitting between her and Four.

"So, Tris you know these circular patties made of meat are called Hamburgers right?" I smirked at her. She sat down on the other side of Christina and scowled at me.

"That's not funny." Tris smirked at me.

The doors to the cafeteria open, and a hush falls over the room. I look over my shoulder. A young man walks in, and it is quiet enough that I can hear his footsteps. His face is pierced in so many p laces I lose count, and his hair is long, dark, and greasy. But that isn't what makes him look menacing. It is the coldness of his eyes as they sweep across the room. Yay. Its Eric. Again!

"Who's that?" hisses Christina. Idiot. You do realize you just saw him less then six minutes ago!"

"His name is Eric," says Four. "He's a Dauntless leader seriously? But he's so young." Four gives her a grave look. "Age doesn't matter here."

I can tell she's about to ask what Tris wants to ask: _Then what does matter? _But Eric's eyes stop scanning the room, and he starts toward a table. He starts toward our table and drops into the seat next to Four. He offers no greeting to Four or Tris or Christina, but he nods his head in greeting to me, so I smile at him.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" he asks Four, nodding to Christina and Tris. Four says, "This is Tris and Christina."

"Ooh, a Stiff," says Eric, smirking at Tris. His smile pulls at the piercings in his lips, making the holes they occupy wider, and I wince awkwardly. "We'll see how long you last." I mean to say something—to assure him that she will last, maybe—but words fail me. I don't understand why, but I don't want Eric to look at her any longer than he already has.

What have you been doing lately, Four?" Eric asks. Four lifts a shoulder. "Nothing, really," he says with a shrug.

"Max tellls me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you don't show up," Eric says. "He requested that I find out what's going on with you." Four looks at Eric for a few seconds be fore saying, "Tell him that I am satisfied with the position I currently hold."

"So he wants to give you a job." The rings in Eric's eyebrow catch the light when he raises an eyebrow.

"It would seem," Four says.

"And you aren't interested?"

"I haven't been interested for two years."

"Well," says Eric. "Let's hope he gets the message, then." He claps Four on the shoulder, a little too hard, and gets up. Eric catches my eye as he turns to leave, and he nods his head off to the hallway. Curious, I stand up. Four looks up abrutely when Tris nudges his shoulder.

"Eric. She's just an initate." Four says, and I purse my lips. Eric smirks at him.

"Yeah. But she's old enough for me. You wouldn't understand Four, this is Leadership business." Eric smirks, taking my hand, and Tris growls.

"Juliunna this isn't funny!"

"Who says its funny?" I ask, turning to Eric to look him in his dark blue eyes. They were shiny and heart tuggingly beautiful.

"So, you want to go upstairs to my apartment-!"

"Of course!" I snap at him. Maybe I won't tell him that I'm fourteen years and two months old. This is a dream come true! I think to myself as he starts walking me towards the doors. Right when we reach them, I turn around and let go of Eric's hand. I look back to the table and the second my eyes make contact with Peter, the scene shifts. My vision goes blurry and suddenly, I'm ripped back to Gym Class.

"Juliunna!" A girl who is friends with my guy friend snaps with a chuckle. She shakes my shoulder hard and I'm suddenly conscious of my head, which is sprawled across my Divergent book. I sigh but get up. "What time is it?" I ask her, grabbing my book as the two of us make for the Gym doors.

"Its 12:50. You slept for the whole Gym Class. Your lucky I don't tell the teacher." Isabella chuckles, and I shrug my shoulders.

"Its alright, I don't really mind. Anyway, this is where I split. I got to go." I waved at Isabella, and my guy friend Jamal waves at me from his spot at the door.

"See you guys." I say, and with a small hum set off for Homeroom, where I have every intent of sleeping for thirty minutes, until I have my next class: Science!

I wonder what it would have been like to sleep with Eric? 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

**Normal Pov**

The next morning, my heart was pounding anxiously as I sat in lunch with my homeroom friends, thinking to myself. Next to me, my best friend Madaija was chatting my ear off about Taylor, who was sitting two seats away on our circular shaped table. Taylor (She's Taylor Pettigrew. ) is also in our homeroom. Madaija and Taylor don't like each other. They have this female vendetta against each other since last year. And while Madaija is my best friend, I still refuse to speak ill about Taylor. She's classified as a friend in my book. She's always kind and friendly to me, and we always share laughs.

"I mean seriously. She knows I like Eli. She always does this! First there was Mateo, then there was Nasir, then there was Christian. Once she finds out that I like someone she always seems to have a crush on them too-!"

"Yes, yes. I get it." I say, refusing to talk ill about Taylor. Taylor reached across the table and bopped me on the shoulder gently. "Jules, look who's looking at you-! Oh he's coming over!" Taylor snapped with gritted teeth. The air escaped her lips in a teasing, and exciting hiss. I scowled at the table, wishing I could go back to Divergent land. It's got to be some kind of key coded password or something. Last night when I went to sleep (I wasn't able to sleep during class the day before) I tried slipping my Divergent book under my pillow. But it was too uncomfortable. I couldn't sleep because the book was so big and my head was slanting upwards. And lying down with the book is so uncomfortable, so I figured I would just try now during lunch. But a slim hand clamped itself down on my shoulder, and I glared at the surface of the table.

"Hey sweet face." He commented, and took the empty seat next to me. I frowned when Taylor and Madaija swooned his way. A few of the girls were staring at him nearby, and there were a lot of them in line to get their lunches, staring back at him. Brittney, a future stripper in my gym class, looked back and gave him a five finger wave. He nodded back at her in suggestiveness, but then turned back to me.

"So sweet face-!"

"Don't call me that." I snapped at him, taking out my Divergent book out of my purse and placing it on the table. Taylor and Madaija glared at me. "Jules! Don't be rude." Taylor snapped at me through gritted teeth, giving Tyler a sly grin. He smiled at me, and as I did every time he came near me, I examined him with my eyes.

He was tall, at least five foot nine. He had floppy black hair, straightened and perfect. His eyes were a deep and piercing, cerulean blue. I shivered when he grinned at me, his eyes stretching softly as he chuckled. His skin was pale and buff, his muscles stretching as he flexed them. He had all the girls at my school fooled and under his spell.

Except for me of course.

My intelligence exceeded me pass my peers, and I wasn't fooled. Behind that handsome smirk lay an evil boy, one who didn't care for anything or anyone. He was a monkey, just like the 95 percent of this school. And I hated him for it.

"So sweet face, class night is coming up." He smirked at me, and I grinned. Class night was a formal attire where you wear your best clothes, go out to the country club, and have a sort of prom/ club dance. It was similar to a graduation party for the eight graders. There would be nice people, good food, and hot music.

I wouldn't go if you paid me.

"Let me stop you there Tyler." I sighed, opening the Divergent book up and letting my eyes scan the page.

"I'm not going to class night." I said with a scowl. He snorted. "Yeah right. Not one girl is missing class night. So, who are you going with?" He asked, running a large hand through his hair confidently. I glared at him.

"No one. And if you had listened to me Tyler, you would have understood that I'm not going to class night." I scowled at him. He continued on as if he hadn't heard that part. A smirk on his face. "Great, no one's asked you yet. That means I get first place." He smirked. I glared again at the table.

"Get away from me Tyler." I said, picking up my books. My fellow classmates watched me in shock as Tyler grabbed my wrist quickly, trying to pull me back into my seat.

Now get this. I don't know how or why this happens, but it does. When I'm walking, climbing, and dancing, I'm flexible and normal. But when I'm scared, I spend more time on the floor then on my feet, (As one of my home room teachers Mrs. Daigle were so glad to point out.)

So a movement as simple as grabbing my wrist, sent me sprawling onto my back, my feet slipping across the floor as I banged my head on the smooth and hardened marble floor. Everyone at my table gasped. As Tyler got onto his feet to help me up, I began to see stars. "I hate you!" I spit at him, and he grabbed my wrist and jetted me to my feet.

"Well I love you too." He snapped at me, and then after tapping my head cautiousy, as if testing me for concusions, he walked back to his lunch table across the room.

"Yeah, its official. Your crazy." Madaija commented me, and Nasir patted me on the back hard.

"Ow!" I snapped at him, and Taylor stared longingly at Tyler.

"Oh he's hot."

"I know he is." I shrugged. And Taylor hissed at me angrily. "Then why don't you go out with him?! He just asked you out!"

"I know, and he is entirely stupid and below my relationship requirements." I snapped back at her, and within minutes, everyone was back to their normal selves. Everyone at our table was laughing at the joke Jerome had said, when I remembered the Divergent book on my table. I laid my head down on the hard cover, and concentrated real hard. Around me, everyone was chatting and joking loudly. The noise was clattering around my head. I took my hair out of my hair tie and let my curly hair fall across my face. I breathed in properly, and though it took about five boring minutes, I started drifting off. I fell asleep to the noise of Taylor chortling right next to me.

**…**

When I open my eyes, my scenery is different then the one I fell asleep with. I grin. I'm back with the Dauntless. I must have deposited my conscious onto a spare future of the memory I left with. Instead of taking off where I left the dream like state. I was on my back on a white, pristine couch. I lifted my head up and looked around the room. Did Eric take me to his apartment? Because I'm in someone's apartment. Slowly, lifting my head first, I straightened and lifted my back off the couch. I wrapped my arm around my knees slowly, staying silent as possible to try to understand my surroundings.

"Hello sleepy head." I heard, and I turned around with a surprised look on my face.

"Eric?" I squeaked. I couldn't help but peek at his unabashed form. He had on nothing but a red bandanna on his head. He sauntered forward me and sat next to my blushing spot, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Yes?" He drawled out confidently, and dropped his hand onto his naked thigh.

I squeaked again, trying my hardest to keep my eyes on Eric's. But he was smirking, noticing my discomfort and enjoying it at the same time.

"What time is it?"

"Nine." He said, reaching over and grabbing my hand. He held it tightly as he placed my open palm on the inside of his thigh. I bit my tongue as he started moving my index finger around and around his soft skin. I frowned. "Nine what?"

Nine o'clock. Pm." Eric smirks, and I shrug. Alright, might as well enjoy myself.

His hands made contact with my waist, yanking me against his body. I grip his shoulders in surprise as I am shuffled onto his waist, sitting and waiting. Curiousity, needing, and the promise of pleasure keeps me on his naked lap. I can feel his hardened member pressing against my thigh through the tight cloth. I reach up my hand to softly brush away my curly hair away from my forehead. But he, smirking, slowly wrapped his fingers around my soft, delicate wrist and then pulls them back onto my lap.

His hand leaves mine to cup under my chin. His touch is light, fingers slowly stroking the sensitive skin I never knew existed there. It moves to my cheek, sending chills down my spine, setting the hairs on my arms to raise as he strokes my cheekbone. The hand on my waist closes the small distance against us so our hip bones are touching. It makes a small bumping noise. My breath is coming quicker now. I most certainly know where this is going and I really like it.

"Eric -" I start to say as he crooks his head down so his lips can meet mine. My body goes still, barely breathing. When I'm not responsive, the hand on my waist digs in. What was it he said? This is the… one, two, three-! Oh yeah. Eighth time I've ever been kissed and regardless of my always clear head and intelligent mind, my thoughts have become muddled.

His eyes are still open, looking down at me. Weren't you meant to close your eyes when you kissed someone? His eyes bore in to mine and the words "Kiss me" are mumbled against my lips. I close my eyes and relax my body in to him whilst my brain is shouting at me to run away. I may enjoy sex in moderation, but he is way too bold for me to be calm and serene.

His touch becomes more demanding on my lips. My face crumples in confusion.

"Open them, Juliunna," the vibrations of his words against my lips make them tingle.

I stay there for a moment letting the information process. Open them? My lips? Or is it my eyes? Well judging by my knowledge of kissing and intimacy, his body laungauge is edging more towards what the children of my era call, 'French Kissing'. So I'll do just that.

I let my lips part against his and his hand moves to hook four fingers behind my ear, his thumb gently stroking my face. He deepens the kiss, I can understand why parted lips can play such a big role. It takes me by surprise when his tongue flicks against mine. My hands suddenly grip against the back of his head, winding my fingers through his hair. I feel a rumble in his chest I think is meant to be a laugh. I feel his tongue retract from mine.

"I see, I'll just have to teach you then. Well, you can consider this one of your training sessions," his lips touch mine briefly.

"You're meant to use your tongue against mine."

"Why?"

"Because that's how you french kiss." He says, looking at me expectantly. I sigh. I bite back my retort of asking him if he even knew how it was called French kissing, and he smirks at me.

His fingers dig in to the sensitive skin in my neck. I shut up. I feel the smile that's on his face as he starts to kiss me. Hmm, if the curcular silver piercing on his eyebrow has a radius of two, and a height of 1.4 meters, and I wanted to find the volume of said eyebrow ring, what would the volume be? But what if I wanted to find the curcumfrance of the ring? Hmm, I wonder if when Eric and I are done he'll let me measure his piercing-!

I'm so consumed in my thoughts that I forget what I was supposed to be doing and got reminded by a not so friendly reminder of Eric's finger nails making marks in my skin.

I tentatively open my mouth once more and flick my tongue out to meet his. The build up of heat is starting again. Is this an involuntarily response because this happens even with someone you don't like or am I just running out of air? I'm not sure if Eric's even sane when he lets a deep, throaty groan out. We stay this way for a while, Eric's hand starts to creep from my waist to the small of my back, pressing me further in to him if then even humanly possible. With me sitting on his lap, and enjoying myself, he starts to flex his knee up and down, bouncing me up and down.

His tongue flicks out and runs across my bottom lip, I let out a small groan. I didn't force it. My eyes flash open for a second, surprise casting over my face. He presses his face closer to mine, nibbling on my lip. A sigh escapes my lips followed by a groan. He plants a few more kisses against my lips, his hands traveling down my sides. My fingers are still entwined in his hair, pulling at it in frustration.

Eric's mouth leaves mine, pressing his lips to the side of my mouth, making a track all the way to my jaw. Each kiss he is planting is sending a fiery sensation to the pit of my stomach. I realize that this feels good, so I tip my chin up, letting my hair fall backwards in a shower of black waves down my back. The groans are coming thick and fast now. I untangle my hand from his hair to travel up and down his head, grabbing on to it hard as his tongue starts to flick at my neck. A throaty elongated groan comes from my mouth.

He pulls away from me, his eyes widened and heated. He grips my thighs tight and holds me closer to his chest as he stands up. I'm abrutely thrown back in his speeded jump, and he leaned back with a large grunt so I smack against his chest.

My mouth is wide open as I realize that his hardened member is pulsing between my legs. He leans down and sits me on the table. I grin at him as he backs away. "I'll be right back." He says with an evil glint in his eyes. I don't say a word to him as he stalks nakedly into the next room. My heart is beating fast and heatedly. I stand up, my intentions were to follow and surprise him. But theirs a yank on my navel and my vision goes blurry.

"No!" I snapped tearfully. It was just getting good! Wait a minute. What's going on? I'm swaying back and fourth, but my body is steady. Someone's carrying me. My arms are swaying back and fourth towards the floor, and so are my legs. My eyes are heavy and disoriented. And I have to blink them a little.

"No what?" The person carrying me asks with a chuckle, and we round the hallway.

"I-!" My mouth drops to the floor, my jaw going slack. I shake my head again, and I look up into the person's face.

"Tyler!" I snap with intense outrage. I tuck and roll out of his tight grip and land on the floor. He bends over at the waist with hysterical laughs.

"Why are you carrying me in the hallway?! I'm supposed to be in lunch!" I snapped at him, and felt dirty suddenly. I hate it when he touches me. I grimace when he looks me in the eye and throws me an arrogant smirk.

"You just looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. And I didn't have the heart to wake you up. So I picked you up and I was currently on my way to the Auditorium. I thought you would enjoy me taking you to your next class." Tyler smirked at me.

"What?! But I go to room 106 for fifteen minutes until I go to cycles. Tyler, you know that. Our stupid computer teacher sat us next to each other, remember?" I snapped at him.

"Yeah, but I figured that since you had a fifteen minute window, no one would come looking for you when I took you into the Audiorium and tied you to the stage bars." Tyler smirked. I glared at him.

"What?!"

"I also figured that since your always going off an on about how the Audiorium is so safe and sound proof-!"

"Its sound protective! The walls are the thickest and strongest, not to mention the biggest and smoothies walls in the building. Just get it straight!" I snapped at him. He grinned and continued on as if I hadn't spoken.

"I figured that the sound proof walls would also block out your screams." He said with a dirty smirk. I squeaked and started to back up. Okay, room 106 is halfway down the hall, and to my right. If I run, I can make it.

"Why would I scream?" I asked, and I was horrified as he started taking one foot forward, for every step I took backwards.

"Well when I put your ankles by your ear and start pounding into you all your going to be doing is screaming-!"

"Ah!" I screamed and ran down the remainder of the hall. To my relief, he didn't follow me. When I reached the door I looked back to him and blanched. He was leaning against the wall, one large hand softly wrapping around his firm member, plunging his hand into his pants.

That kid is such a perv.

…

I opened my eyes. My jaw dropped open and I scowled angrily at the ceiling. I hate Tyler soo much! He made me miss the best part! My body was slickened with sweat. The worse part was behind my knees and stomach. Eric was lying in between my legs, his forehead resting on my chest, snoring softly. I moved my wrists slowly, intending on wiping the sheen of sweat off my forehead. I gritted my teeth when I was suddenly constricted with chains. Oh crap he handcuffed me to the wrong side of the bed. The bottom instead of the top.

That's my ultimate fantasy.

I hate Tyler so bad. He made me miss this! Ow! I thought to myself suddenly. Eric had sleepily adjusted his head and one of his piercings snagged on my chest. He was still asleep though.

I sighed. Oh crap there's duct tape on my mouth.

It just keeps getting better doesn't it?

…

"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight." Four presses a gun into my palm without looking at me and keeps walking. "Thankfully if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that." Four said, and I weighed the gun in my hands. It was powerful and exciting.

Soon after I got back from Computer class (Which was embarresing when Tyler kept leaning over and whispering dirty words in my ear) I had fallen asleep in Room 106. I don't have anything going on, and I had a full half hour till Science class, so I went back to the word of Divergent.

"Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time." Four announced, staring at as all. I stare at the weapon in my hand. Never in my life did I expect to hold a gun, let alone fire one. I've wished to hold and fire one of course, but its not like my parents ever let me get one.

"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear," says Four. "Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental."

"But what…" Peter yawns through his words. "What does firing a gun have to do with…bravery?" Four flips the gun in his hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. I grin excitedly.

Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. "Wake. Up," Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun you idiot. Act like it." He lowers the gun. Once the immediate threat is gone, Peter's green eyes harden. He looks to me and upon seeing the grin on my face, glares at me. I immediently turn back to Four when he returns to his post, my cheeks reddening quickly.

"And to answer your question…you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." Four says, stops walking at the end of the row and turns on his heel. "This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me." He faces the wall with the targets on it—one square of plywood with three red circles on it for each of us. He stands with his feet apart, holds the gun in both hands, and fires. The bang is so loud it hurts Tris's ears, I can tell because she winces. But I like loud noise, and the sound of the gun exploding in my ears is like a soft tongue flicking across it. I wish for it to be louder.

When Four waves his hand around, everyone runs to find a target, intent on showing their mentor that they deserve to stay in Dauntless. Tris and Christina stay by my side, both looking nervously at me for conformation.

"Well, lets not stand around here all day." I joke, and walk forward with the air of someone who doesn't care. I hold my gun over in my hand, and Christina goes off to shoot with Will. Tris raises her gun near the target. I watched her set her feet shoulder-width apart, and delicately wrap both hands around the handle of the gun. It seems like It's heavy and hard to lift away from her body, but she also wanted it to be as far from her face as possible. She squeezes the trigger, hesitantly at first and then harder, cringing away from the gun. The blast is loud and the gun ends up flying back and hitting her in the nose. I fight back a chuckle.

I stumble back, choking on a giggle when I see her angry face, and pressed my hand to the wall behind me for balance. I don't know where her bullet went, but I know it's not near the target. She fired again and again and again, and none of the bullets even came close. "Statistically speaking," the Erudite boy next to me, his name is Will, says to her, grinning at Tris, "You should have hit the target at least once by now, even by accident." He is blond, with shaggy hair and a crease between his eyebrows. Ha! I knew he was the boy I winked at on the roof top.

"Oh really? Well I think this thing is broken." Tris snapped angrily, and I picked up my gun. Now, I know I said that I have never had a gun before, but my genetic homeostasis dreaming state is very hypnotic and realistic. If it wasn't I wouldn't be here, obviously.

I've went to the gun range with my dream boyfriend before.

With one hand I raised the gun and pointed it at the target. I squeezed the trigger slowly and bam! Right through the target.

I've learned it from a video game. I jumped back around and grinned when Four was there, staring at the board with a raised eyebrow. "This isn't the first time you fired a gun right?" He asked, and everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at me.

"No, it is." I shrugged.

"Do it again." Four gestured to the wall. I shrugged. I lifted the gun and breathed deeply. Bam, bullseye. Again. Bulls eye. Bam. Bulls eye.

"I play a lot of Call of duty." I explained to Four with a smirk. He frowned. "What?"

"It's a game. Never mind." I said, and Four smirked.

"Wow." Peter drawled, watching me. He strode forward and Tris clapped me on the shoulder proudly.

"Teach me how to do it." He whispered in awe, and glared at me when I laughed.

"Sorry Peter. I've learned through hard work and hard times. I remember after I saw the Hunger Games, I would sneak knives from the kitchen and throw them at the wall so I could be just like Clove. I was twelve. I'm pretty good, but I don't have a lot of practice with that. Plus with me being a little bit crazy and all, I spend the majority of the day inside my head. I taught myself how to be great inside my head." I explained to him with a chuckle. He backed away slowly, a horrified look on his face.

"Well… Keep up the good work." Four said, and I sighed dreamily when he walked back to the center of the room.

Heh. Well I think this was an accomplished day.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

**Normal Pov**

"This is bad." Tris said when I was jetted into the dormitory doors. I had just gone to sleep at my desk and woke up in the dormitories. Tris didn't even notice the magical popping sound and me suddenly appearing out of nowhere. She just came storming out of the bathroom and upon seeing me, frowned.

"What's bad?" I said with butterflies in my stomach. I could feel my heart pounding so hard it felt as if it was in my throat. Warm blood filled my veins as Tris bent down to whisper in my ear.

"Why did you tell them your from Erudite?" Tris asked. And at that my eyes widened. "What?"

"You told the group of Dauntless Trainers when you jumped into the net that you were from Erudite. I know you are, but you didn't have to say it! I overheard a few of them saying last night, that you were a suspicious character." Tris whispered feverishly. I frowned.

"What does that mean?" I asked her. She sighed.

"It means that you are being watched. You were too excited the first day, too eager to jump off the roof for an Erudite-!"

"It was fun!" I snapped in defense, but then my face went pale. What if they tried to look up my records in Erudite and discovered that there is no Juliunna Malfoy? I'm scared!

"I know it was for you. But you were going places and telling us stuff that only non Dauntless know about." Tris sighed.

"What if I just read it in a book? I'm from Erudite, I'm smart!" I snapped at her, and I bit on my lips nervously. Future scenerios in the book flew around my mind. Al's death. Tris's assult. Jeanine Matthew's war on Dauntless-!" My mouth dropped open as I thought. What if when they turn on the stimulations, they don't work on me?! What if the simulations do work on me?! You know, the one that turns the people into robots. What if I'm killed? What if I kill someone? I wasn't planning on doing that for years!

"Jules. I know. But you should probably lay low for a while. And what were you thinking, hanging out with Eric?! You shouldn't, he's probably looking for signs of your…" Tris bit her lip and looked at me curiously. I wonder if she's wondering about if I'm Divergent or not. Ooh! Can I be?

"Okay. We probably don't have to worry about that for now." Tris said with a deep breath. And I nodded. "Yeah, you don't have to worry about me Tris. I'm the type of person who would look death in the face, and greet him like an old friend." I said with a deep breath. And Tris smirked.

"Yeah. Come on, Four only gave us twenty minutes for lunch. Let's get down their."

After lunch, Four leads us to a new room. It's huge, with a wood floor that is cracked and creaky and has a large circle painted in the middle. On the left wall is a green board—a chalkboard. I haven't seen a chalk board since… first grade. Yeah, its all whiteboards now. We only have the kind that you draw on with markers in my school.

Our names are written on the board in alphabetical order. Hanging at three-foot intervals along one end of the room are faded black punching bags. We line up behind them and Four stands in the middle, so that we can all see him.

"As I said this morning," says Four, "Next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges —which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless." He says, and I can't help but hum to myself in thought. I never really did find out what life as a Dauntless would be like. The night they found out the scores and who was in Dauntless and who was out, the war started.

"We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other," says Four. "So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt." Four names a few different punches, demonstrating each one as he does, first against the air and then against the punching bag. I catch on as we practice. Unlike with the gun, I need a few tries to figure out how to hold myself and how to move my body to make it look like his. I hate not getting it right the first time. But apparently its working for me today, because one trainer towards the back that had currently been calculating me carefully, seemed put off and bored suddenly.

_Someone's_ not going to get decapitated today.

I tap my feet boringly after twenty minutes. Next to me, Peter efforetlessly makes the punching bag go back so far it nearly touches the ground. I glare at the floor angrily. I throw myself at my own punching pad roughly, thowing punches hard.

"I think-! My punching bag is broke-! I hate this!" I screamed after noticing that even Beatrice was doing better then me, and she sucks in the book! Four stops next to me with a chuckle.

"Its okay if you don't get it right the first time." He chuckles. I frowned. But Peter did get it right the first time. And that is what is important.

"Think, think." I said aloud, and then pressed my fingertips softly to my temple.

"Okay. According to this bag it weighs eighty pounds. Filled with what feels like eighty percent of heavy rice. If I throw my 125 pounds heavily at a certain part of the bag, it'll be taken down easily." I breathed aloud, and Four raised an eyebrow, obviously impressed.

I did the math inside my head, the punching bag in front of me being visualized completely from head to toe. Numbers flew past my eyes. Okay, square root of the volume times its density-!

"Got it." I said suddenly, and then threw my fist into the top right corner. Cooridinates 9, 12. It flew back and smacked into the ground.

"Whoa!" Will shouted, and everyone started applauding.

"Its alright. I know what I'm doing." I told Beatrice when she looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I remembered why I was supposed to keep it on the down low and looked to the man in the back corner. He was writing something down on the clip board, but I hoped he was just impressed and writing about my ability to place math problems in real life.

When Four dismissed us for dinner, Christina nudges Tris with her elbow. "I'm surprised he didn't break you in half," she says. Oh yeah, the whole Four puts his hand on Beatice's stomach scene. I wasn't paying much attention afterward.

She wrinkles her nose. "He scares the hell out of me. It's that quiet voice he uses."

"Yeah. He's…" Tris says, and looked over her shoulder at him. He is quiet, and remarkably self possessed. But I wasn't afraid that he would hurt me or anyone else. He's actually pretty friendly. "…definitely intimidating," She finally finishes.

Al, who was in front of us, turns around once we reach the Pit and announces, "I want to get a tattoo." From behind us, Will asks, "A tattoo of what?"

"I don't know." Al laughs. "I just want to feel like I've actually left the old faction. Stop crying about it." When we don't respond, he adds, "I know you've heard me." Oh yeah, Al crying during the night. Well its not like I sleep here. Lol.

"Yeah, learn to quiet down, will you?" Christina pokes Al's thick arm. "Okay, okay." Al chuckles.

"Where are you guys going?" I ask them, and Tris turns around with a smile. "We're going to the Tatoo parlor. You have got to meet Tori. She's the women who gave me my stimulation-!"

"I can't go." I say. And Will, Christina, and Al stop in place along side Beatrice.

"What, why not?!" Christina whined. I frowned. "Public attention is not my forte. I'm going to hang out by the chasm." I said truthfully. I didn't want to be the fifth wheel while the four of them went out having fun. Getting tatted up and wearing makeup and junk. Ick.

So like my own indifference idea of a fun time, I was going to tie a rope around the chasm bars and lower myself down, and go swimming!

"Where are you going though?" Beatrice asked. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going swimming." I said, and without another word took off down the hall. I passed Four on his way up to the… Control room and had a sudden realiazation. What's he going to do when he discovers me jumping off the chasm? Trouble? Join me? Okay that's highly unlikely. Heh, guess I'll just… I want to go… What is that thing called again? When Beatrice and Uriah and Zack and the really big group of Dauntless born initiates climbed up that big building and jumped off it? Well don't know what its called but I want to do it.

But alas, I sighed. I'll just go sulk in my dorm room for a while until everyone gets back.

Sounds fun!:)

…

"Since there are an odd number of you, one of you won't be fighting today," Four said, stepping away from the board in the training room. He gives Tris a look. The space next to her name is blank. The knot in my stomach unravels. A reprieve. But then it knots back up because I see I'm fighting … Oh my. Who made these stats? Who hates me so much? Who?! I'm fighting… Drew. I don't want to feel pain by him! Is Drew a good fighter or a bad one? Am I going to be like Tris is the book? Covered in bruises and humiliated on the spot? Oh I can't do this. Wake up. Wake up now. Wake up now.

"This isn't good," says Christina, nudging me with her elbow. Her elbow prods one of my sore muscles—I have more sore muscles than not-sore muscles, this morning —and I wince. "Ow."

"Sorry," she says. "But look, I'm up against the tank." Christina says with a bite of her lip.

"The Tank?" Beatrice asks, and I find Christina's name on the board. Written next to it is 'Molly.'

"Yeah, Peter's slightly more feminine-looking minion," She says, nodding toward the cluster of people on the other side of the room. Molly is tall like Christina, but that's where the similarities end. She has broad shoulders, bronze skin, and a bulbous nose. "Those three"—Christina points at Peter, Drew, and Molly in turn—"have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them." Will and All stand across from each other in the arena. They put their hands up by their faces to protect themselves, as Four taught us, and shuffle in a circle around each other. Beatrice and Christina continue chatting about the three of them. I can't help but stare at Drew fearfully, my eyes widening slightly. He's taller then me, and thin. But with shoulders like that… I hope I win. I don't want to embarrass myself in front of Eric, who hasn't spared me a freaking glance all morning. But he's standing up against the wall, watching the fight with a huge smirk.

Al punches Will hard in the jaw. I wince. Across the room, Eric smirks at Al, and turns around one of the rings in his eyebrow. Will stumbles to the side, one hand pressed to his face, and blocks Al's next punch with his free hand. Judging by his grimace, blocking the punch is as painful as a blow would have been. All is slow, but powerful. Peter, Drew, and Molly cast furtive looks in our direction and then pull their heads together, whispering. "I think they know we're talking about them," I say. "So? They already know I hate them." Christina said with a shrug. I frown as she and Beatrice start talking again. Drew, catching my eye, turns to the chalkboard and gloatingly looks back at me. I frown and focus on the fight while trying to cover up my fear.

Will and Al face each other for a few more seconds, more hesitant than they were before. Will flicks his pale hair from his eyes. They glance at Four like they're waiting for him to call the fight off, but he stands with his arms folded, giving no response.

A few feet away from him, Eric checks his watch. After a few seconds of circling, Eric shouts, "Do you think this is a leisure activity? Should we break for nap-time? Fight each other!" "But…" All straightens, letting his hands down, and says, "Is it scored or something? When does the fight end?" "It ends when one of you is unable to continue," says Eric. "According to Dauntless rules," Four says, "one of you could also concede."

Eric narrows his eyes at Four. "According to the old rules," he says. "In the new rules, no one concedes."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others," Four replies.

"A brave man never surrenders." Eric says, and Four and Eric stare at each other for a few seconds.

I feel like I am looking at two different kinds of Dauntless—the honorable kind, and the ruthless kind. But even someone like Glimmer knows that in this room, it's Eric, the youngest leader of the Dauntless, who has the authority. Beads of sweat dot Al's forehead; he wipes them with the back of his hand.

"This is ridiculous," Al says, shaking his head. "What's the point of beating him up? We're in the same faction!"

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" Will asks, grinning. "Go on. Try to hit me, slowpoke." Will puts his hands up again. I see determination in Will's eyes that wasn't there before.

Does he really believe he can win? One hard shot to the head and Al will knock him out cold. That is, if he can actually hit Will. Al tries a punch, and Will ducks, the back of his neck shining with sweat. He dodges another punch, slipping around Al and kicking him hard in the back. Al lurches forward and turns. When I was younger, I read a book about grizzly bears. There was a picture of one standing on its hind legs with its paws outstretched, roaring. That is how Al looks now. He charges at Will, grabbing his arm so he can't slip away, and punches him hard in the jaw.

I watch the light leave Will's eyes, which are pale green, like celery. They roll back into his head, and all the tension falls from his body. He slips from Al's grasp, dead weight, and crumples to the floor. Cold rushes down my back and fills my chest. Al's eyes widen, and he crouches next to Will, tapping his cheek with one hand. The room falls silent as we wait for Will to respond. For a few seconds, he doesn't, just lies on the ground with an arm bent beneath him.

Then he blinks, clearly dazed. "Get him up," Eric says. He stares with greedy eyes at Will's fallen body, like the sight is a meal and he hasn't eaten in weeks. The curl of his lip is cruel. Four turns to the chalkboard and circles Al's name. Victory.

That seemed so painful. Err… I wonder if anyone would notice if I made a break for it.

But Eric leans against the exit door, blocking my painless freedom. I frown and a whimper escapes my mouth. Small enough that only Christina and Tris heard it. But neither of them turned to me, thankfully. Eric smirks around at as all.

"Next up—Molly and Christina!" shouts Eric. Al pulls Will's arm across his shoulders and drags him out of the arena. Christina cracks her knuckles. I would wish her luck, but I don't know what good that would do. Christina isn't weak, but she's much narrower than Molly. Hopefully her height will help her. Across the room, Four supports Will from the waist and leads him out. Al stands for a moment by the door, watching them go. Four leaving makes Tris nervous, who bristles with goosebumps. Leaving us with Eric is like hiring a babysitter who spends his time sharpening knives.

Never met one but I do want to.

Christina tucks her hair behind her ears. It is chin-length, black, and pinned back with silver clips. She cracks another knuckle. She looks nervous, and no wonder—who wouldn't be nervous after watching Will collapse like a rag doll? I sure am. Across the room I see Peter and his cronies laughing and staring at me. Dude, we got along so well yesterday!

Will I be Al, standing over a man's body, knowing I'm the one who put him on the ground, or will I be Will, lying in a helpless heap? I hope I'm Al. Because Will probably bit his tongue when he got hit in the jaw, and that hurts! I freeze when Eric catches my eye from across the Arena, and he smirks at me.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I snap to attention when Christina kicks Molly in the side. Molly gasps and grits her teeth like she's about to growl through them. A lock of stringy black hair falls across her face, but she doesn't brush it away. All stands next to me, but I'm too focused on the new fight to look at him, or congratulate him on winning, assuming that's what he wants. I am not sure. Molly smirks at Christina, and without warning, dives, hands outstretched, at Christina's midsection. She hits her hard, knocking her down, and pins her to the ground. Christina thrashes, but Molly is heavy and doesn't budge. She punches, and Christina moves her head out of the way, but Molly just punches again, and again, until her fist hits Christina's jaw, her nose, her mouth.

Without thinking, I grab Al's arm and squeeze it as tightly as I can. I just need something to hold on to. Blood runs down the side of Christina's face and splatters on the ground next to her cheek. This is the first time I have ever prayed for someone to fall unconscious. But she doesn't. Christina screams and drags one of her arms free. She punches Molly in the ear, knocking her off-balance, and wriggles free. She comes to her knees, holding her face with one hand. The blood streaming from her nose is thick and dark and covers her fingers in seconds. She screams again and crawls away from Molly. I can tell by the heaving of her shoulders that she's sobbing, but I can barely hear her over the throbbing in my ears.

"Please go unconscious." I hear Tris whisper right next to me. And I agree.

Molly kicks Christina's side, sending her sprawling on her back. Al frees his hand and pulls me tight to his side. I clench my teeth to keep from crying out. I had no sympathy for Al the first night, but I am not cruel yet; the sight of Christina clutching her rib cage makes me want to stand between her and Molly.

"Stop!" wails Christina as Molly pulls her foot back to kick again. She holds out a hand. "Stop! I'm…" She coughs. "I'm done." Molly smiles, and Tris sighs with relief. Al sighs too, his rib cage lifting and falling against my shoulder. But this isn't time for relief. This is time for Christina to hang dangerously over the Chasm, because Eric can't be bested.

Eric walks toward the center of the arena, his movements slow, and stands over Christina with his arms folded.

He talks quietly, his voice slow, low, and precision and perfect. "I'm sorry, what did you say? You're done?" Christina pushes herself to her knees. When she takes her hand from the ground, it leaves a red handprint behind. She pinches her nose to stop the bleeding and nods. This isn't good.

"Get up," he says.

He grabs Christina's arm, yanks her to her feet, and drags her out the door. "Follow me," he says to the rest of us. And we do.

I feel the roar of the river in my chest. We stand near the railing. The Pit is almost empty; it is the middle of the afternoon, though it feels like it's been night for days. If there were people around, I doubt any of them would help Christina. We are with Eric, for one thing, and for another, the Dauntless have different rules—rules that brutality does not violate. Eric shoves Christina against the railing. "Climb over it," he says. "What?" She says it like she expects him to relent, but her wide eyes and ashen face suggest otherwise. Eric will not back down. "Climb over the railing," says Eric again, pronouncing each word slowly. "If you can hang over the chasm for five minutes, I will forget your cowardice. If you can't, I will not allow you to continue initiation." The railing is narrow and made of metal. This is dangerous, but its okay, she'll make it. I read the book.

The spray from the river coats it, making it slippery and cold. Even if Christina is brave enough to hang from the railing for five minutes, she may not be able to hold on. Either she decides to be factionless, or she risks death. When I close my eyes, I imagine her falling onto the jagged rocks below and shudder.

"Fine." She says with a shiver. I smirk. There is some kind of pleasure in seeing Christina risk her life as she climbs over that rail. The water sprays toughly. Eric inclines his head towards me in acknowledgement, but I don't do it back. My focus is hypnotized as I gaze at Christina. The terror on her face is rough.

…

Told you Christina would make it.

I faked a stomach ache and went off to the nurse. That way, I wouldn't be able to fight. Mine was rescedualed for tomorrow. Drew wouldn't be my opponent. I wonder who would be.

I was glad when there was a tug on my navel. I was swirled around and around until my consiciousness was back in Gym Class, Tyler tapping me on the shoulder roughly.

"What do you want?" I asked, and speedily grabbed my book and tried to bypass him. Sadly Tyler's hand reached out and smacked against the wall, and so I was trapped. The desk I sit at was on my left, and Tyler on my right, blocking my only escape.

"Just wanted to talk." He said with a smirk. "Coach has a meeting, lets go in the locker room." He said, and without waiting for my content grabbed my arm and pulled me the ten feet to the door, and then pushed me inside. The door closed with a sweep and we were alone.

I walked further in. I had never been in the boy's locker and wanted to know what time it was. I don't have a good feeling about this. At all. Tyler was right behind me as I found the large display clock on top of the wall. "Tyler! Its 12:54. I have to get o the nurse and take my medicine-!"

"That can wait." Tyler said, grabbing my wrist. He pulled me further into the locker room and around the tiny corner on the right side. He gestured towards the open door of a changing room and I bit my lip.

"I think I have to get to class-!" Without any sign of regret he pushed me into the small changing room. I tripped over my feet and fell onto my butt.

"Hey-! What are you doing with that door?" I asked fearfully. He came in and shut the door, pulling the slide lock. He then promptly turned around, leaned against the door, and then crossed his arms triumphantly.

"Hello pretty lady." He smirked. I frowned. He was towering over me, his muscles bulging. I don't have a chance.

"What do you want Tyler?" I asked, standing up on my two feet. He leaned over and put two hands on my waist, pulling me closer. "I think you know what I want-!" I pushed him away with a glare and then sat down on the mini stool bench behind me. He glared back at me.

"I'm not letting you touch me-!"

"You don't have a choice in the matter-!"

"What the heck is going on?!" My mouth dropped open in relief, Tyler's in terror. He unlocked the door and I lunged forward, throwing my arms around Nick, a kid from my Gym class.

"Let's go Nick, he's crazy." I said, and Nick and I started walking out. "I just came to get my bag." Nick said, slinging the throw bag over his shoulder. I looked back at Tyler who was leaning against the wall with a crazed look on his face. I shrugged.

"So, what happened again?" Nick asked me.

"Don't worry, he's just a creep who locked me in the locker room." I whispered.

"Gym ended six minutes ago. Your lucky I finished my makeup test earlier. Miss Tremor wasn't going to let me out till class was over. An hour later." Nick said with a nod at me. I shivered at the things Tyler could have done to me in an hour.

"Well thank you anyway Nick."

"Your welcome." He said with a shrug. When I got back to homeroom, no one questioned my absence.

I like it that way best.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 2:

**My Pov**

I look at the chalkboard when I walk in. Tris and I didn't have to fight yesterday, but today we definitely will. When I see Tris's name, I stop in the middle of the step. Her opponent is Peter. "Oh no," says Christina, who shuffles in behind us. Her face is bruised, and she looks like she is trying not to limp. When she sees the board, she crumples the muffin wrapper she is holding into her fist. "Are they serious? They're really going to make you fight him?" Christina snapped, and I let out a loud chuckle.

"Wow Tris, you really hit the bad luck pot." I laughed, and felt immediate relief. Drew had fought Peter yesterday, and could barely even walk without a limp. He's got more bruised skin then unbruised skin. I wonder who I'm fighting today. Tris playfully glared at me. "Hey, who are you fighting? The board next to your name is blank." Tris said, and everyone crowded around the board to get a look. "I'm not fighting?" I said hopefully, and the snicker behind me made me froze.

"Not exactly princess." Eric snickered, and everyone went silent as he strolled forward, leaning down close to me so he could whisper.

"You'll fight the winner of Tris and Peter's fight." He murmured heatedly. I froze and felt what was only described as pure terror.

"But Eric-!"

"But Eric nothing. I'm curious to the outcome of the fight." Eric said gleefully, and then strolled on pass me. My mouth dropped open, and I glared at the spot he had currently been standing in. Tris hurried to my spot.

"What did he say?" She asked, and Christina peered at me over Tris's shoulder. "I have to fight Peter." I croaked hoarsely. "I have to fight the winner of your fight. It's going to be Peter." I said traumatizing, the scene from the book playing out perfectly in my head. She saw stars, felt dizzy, fell onto the ground a lot, become bruised and broke her nose. Etcetera. Tris looked hurt and went pink in the face at my comment, and the crowd hissed in symphetically

"I'm going to be in the hospital overnight." I croaked, looking at Peter across the room. He was flexing his large muscles, and both Beatrice and I went pale at the sight of him. He was taller then I remembered.

"First fight, Beatrice and Peter." Eric yelled, cupping his hand to his face. I froze. Tris walked forward and I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. I can only help that beating her up will tire her out before he finds the energy to beat me up and injury me near fatally.

Peter is almost a foot taller than I am, and yesterday, he beat Drew in less than five minutes. Today Drew's face is more black-and-blue than flesh-toned.

"Maybe you can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious," suggests Al. "No one would blame you."

"Yeah," I say. "Maybe." I stare at my name on the board. My cheeks feel hot. I'm going to die here. I always wanted to die painfully, but more in a sensual way of course.

…

Five minutes.

Five minutes and twenty two seconds, according to Al's watch, is how long it took Peter to knock Beatrice out cold. Her face was covered in blood, the back of her head smacking the floor roughly and then she was out like a light. It was weird. Usually I like seeing someone pained, but not her. She was nice. Peter got her real good, and now I'm next.

Eric shouts, "Enough!" And I understand why. Peter stops pummeling Beatrice's unconscious body and stands up. "I'll get her." Al says, and both he and Christina move forward, picking Beatrice up and moving her towards the door. I bite my tongue as I see Eric's smirking face, and he beckons me towards Peter. Oh crap he doesn't look tired.

"Hello smarty." Peter said, leaning down into a fighting stance. Suddenly, Eric shouts. "Second fight. Peter and Juliunna." He shouts, and Peter smirks at me while we circle each other.

"Wait a minute." I say suddenly, and then innocently look at Peter with my big chocolate eyes. He frowns. "What?"

"Can I have a minute to prepare myself mentally?" I ask, and Eric groans. Peter nods. "Yeah, why not? You're going to lose anyway."

"Okay, stand up straight Peter." I say, and Peter stands up straight like a puppet.

"Peter what do you weigh?" I asked, and Peter raises an eyebrow.

"Err, 180 pounds." He says, and I have all I need to know. I imagine every vein, every bloody circuit going up into his brain and all around his body. Which would be the weakest? I ask myself, and Eric started glancing at his watch impatiently.

"Could I get a free shot?" I ask, and Peter nods with a shrug. "Yeah, sure."

"**What?!"** Eric snarls at Peter, who turns to him with a confused look. "What?"

"You idiot! She's tricking you. She's got a plan-!"

"Yeah right. I'm at least a hundred pounds heavier then her. It's like beating up a brick wall. Come on Juliunna, take your best shot." He said, and then spread his arms wide.

His head, it's the weak spot. One good elbow to the head and he'll be out like a light. But it's difficult. Because there is a two square inch ration on his face that is the weak spot, not the whole face. Come on Jules, look.

…

…

…

I stand in front of Peter, and he smirks at me tauntingly. This may not take him out; it's too much of a risk. What do I have to…? Of course.

It was so simple I couldn't see it-!

"Are you going to stand their all day or are you going to hit him-!"

"**Ahhh!" **I screamed, swinging my knee up and hitting him straight in the _crotch. _He dropped to his knees with a painful gasp. But I didn't stop. I had to keep going before he could grab me and get the upper hand. I reached out elbowing his in the nose, and I heard a satisfying crunch. "Ahhh!" He screamed. He reached out and swooped his fist towards mine, and I lurched back. He missed. He rolled over onto his back and abruptly pushed himself up.

"You tricked me!" Peter snapped, and I dove at him. He brought up his fist to hit me in the face, and I rolled underneath his fist, jumping and wrapping my legs around Peter's waist. I leaned forward and wrapped both of my hands around his neck, choking him. He snarled like a beast. His arm twitched and my vision went sparkly. Oh no, bad move. Fix it. Fix it. His eye! I reached out and jabbed my finger into his eye socket. He dropped me with a Manish scream. Blood is just pouring out of his nose as he stumbles backwards, on his knees again. I dove forward and jumped onto his lap, this time making him smack hard against the granite floor like Tris did. Except while the both of them had the same pale look in their eyes, Peter wasn't going down without a fight.

I repeatedly brought my clenched fist up and down, right onto his forehead as hard as I could. His fist reached out and hit me hard. Almost making me fall off. I lurched to the side, but grabbed onto his shirt tightly. Again and again, I brought my fist down onto a pulsing vein on his forehead. The light seemed to be fading out of his eyes, when he took a last ditch effort. He reached upward with both hands and wrapped them both tightly around my neck.

I faltered in my painful attack on Peter's face, but knew that we would just be at it again if I let go. Slam! Slam! Slam! I leaned down and gave one last punch to Peter's face, and he went limp. His hands dropped from my neck, and I stood up. Eric's eyes were wide as I looked up at him.

"How-! How'd you do it?" He asked me in shock. I shrugged.

"It was easy. Geometry and bodily tectonics helped me." I said with a shrug. Eric strode forward and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from Peter's body and towards the hall. When we were in the hall, away from the prying eyes of the Arena, Eric threw me against the hallway. I opened my mouth to argue with him, but Eric placed his body against mine, and then his mouth against mine.

"That was hot." Eric mumbled. And his hand brushed my face lightly. "You've got his blood on your face." He said, and I tried to lift my hand to brush it off. Eric smirked and grabbed my wrist. "Leave it alone. I like it." He said with a smirk. My eyebrows rose when he leaned forward and flicked his tongue across the blood on my cheek.

"You've just earned a one way ticket to Eric's bedroom-!"

"Not this again!" Tobias snapped. He rounded the corner and glared at the two of us. Eric let go of me and leaned up against the wall next to me. "Shut up Four. Heh, take a peek inside. Look at what mini vamprific did to Hayes." Eric said with a laugh.

"What?" Tobias said, opening the door and peering inside. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Molly and Drew trying to prop up a heavily unconscious Peter. Blood splattered all over his face and on the floor.

"Wow." Tobias said, looking back at Juliunna. Eric smirked proudly at me.

…

When Tris wakes up in the dormitory the next morning, I'm still here, I don't feel much, but the inside of my head is fuzzy, like it's packed with cotton balls. I know that I won, and the only thing keeping the pain at bay is what is making it difficult to think straight. "Is her eye already black?" Someone asks about Tris. I open one eye— too sleepy to open the other. Did I really sleep in this unconscious Divergent World? Sitting to my right are Will and Al; Christina sits on the bed to my left with an ice pack on her jaw. Tris looks up at me and her eyes widened.

"What happened to your face?" She says. My lips feel clumsy and too large. Peter's fist really hurt. I laugh. "Look who's talking. Should we get you an eye patch?"

"Well, I already know what happened to my face," Tris says. "I was there. Sort of."

"Did you just make a joke, Tris?" Will says, grinning. "We should get you on painkillers more often if you're going to start cracking jokes. Oh, and to answer your question if your asking about Christina—I beat her up."

"I can't believe you couldn't beat Will," Al says, shaking his head. "What? He's good," she says, shrugging. "Plus, I think I've finally learned how to stop losing. I just need to stop people from punching me in the jaw."

"You know, you'd think you would have figured that out already." Will winks at her. "Now I know why you aren't Erudite. Not too bright, are you?"

"You feeling okay, Tris?" Al says. His eyes are dark brown, almost the same color as Christina's skin. His cheek looks rough, like if he didn't shave it, he would have a thick beard. Hard to believe he's only sixteen.

"Yeah," Tris said. "Just wish I could stay here forever so I never have to see Peter again." We're all in a large room. Wait a minute, these aren't the dormitories. We're in a large, narrow room with a row of beds on either side. Some of the beds have curtains between them. On the right side of the room is a nurse's station. This must be where the Dauntless go when they're sick or hurt. The woman there looks at us over a clipboard. I've never seen a nurse with so many piercings in her ear before.

. "Don't worry about Peter," says Will. "He got beat up by Jules, very well I might asked. He was knocked out! His face was covered in blood and his face was totally scratched up. I wanted to laugh my head off when she asked him if she could have a minute to apply geometry to him." Will said, and everyone in the room started laughing. Not me though. I lifted my shirt up a little, revealing a large red handprint on my hips. Tris looks at me with admiration.

"It was a really good fight," says Christina. She checks her watch. "I think we're missing dinner. Do you want us to stay here, Tris?" She shake her head no. "I'm fine." Christina and Will get up, but All waves them ahead. He has a distinct smell—sweet and fresh, like sage and lemongrass. I go on with Christina and Will, who have both of my arms locked to their sides as they ask me questions.

"What was it like?" She asked.

"Yeah, were you afraid?"

"Beating up Peter-!"

"No! Sleeping with Eric!" Christina said excitedly. I glared at them. "It was hot, sweaty, rough, and painful." I said, and Will and Christina shared looks. "So was it good?"

"Of course it was good. Didn't you hear me say painful?!" I snapped at him. Will chuckled. "So, what now?" He asked, and I looked outside the clear , stain free glass window.

"I'm going swimming!" I said excitedly.

…

**Tris Pov**

I crawl across my mattress and heave a sigh. It has been two days since my fight with Peter, and my bruises are turning purple-blue. I have gotten used to aching every time I move, so now I move better, but I am still far from healed. Even though I am still injured, I had to fight again today. Luckily this time, I was paired against Myra, who couldn't throw a good punch if someone was controlling her arm for her.

I got a good hit in during the first two minutes. She fell down and was too dizzy to get back up. I should feel triumphant, but there is no triumph in punching a girl like Myra. The second I touch my head to the pillow, the door to the dormitory opens, and people stream into the room with flashlights. I sit up, almost hitting my head on the bed frame above me, and squint through the dark to see what's going on. "Everybody up!" someone roars. A flashlight shines behind his head, making the rings in his ears glint. Eric. Surrounding him are other Dauntless, some of whom I have seen in the Pit, some of whom I have never seen before. Four stands among them. His eyes shift to mine and stay there. I stare back and forget that all around me the transfers are getting out of bed.

"Did you go deaf, Stiff?" demands Eric. I snap out of my daze and slide out from beneath the blankets. I am glad I sleep fully clothed, because Christina stands next to our bunk wearing only a T-shirt, her long legs bare. She folds her arms and stares at Eric. I wish, suddenly, that I could stare so boldly at someone with hardly any clothes on, but I would never be able to do that. "You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us by the tracks," says Eric. "We're going on another field trip." He smirked and clapped his hands together. I look over to the bed beside me and see its empty. "Jules?" I ask, talking loud over the chatter of people around me. Christina started looking around.

"Where'd she go?" Christina asked with a frown. Will looked up and around. "Where-! Juliunna!" He bellowed after cupping his hands around his mouth. Eric looked straight at Tris, his eyes heated and smirking. "She's here." Eric smirked, and Peter sat up and rubbed his bruised eyes.

"I saw her going outside an hour ago." He yawned. My eyes widened.

"What? Christina, Will, you guys left with her. Did she say anything about where she was going?" I asked, and everyone stayed silent enough to hear my conversation with them. Will bit his lip in thought.

"Well… She did say something. She said she was going swimming." Wil yawned, lacing up his boots. My mouth dropped open.

"Swimming?" Eric asked sarcastically. "Where can she even go swimming-!"

Christina squeaked. "Look. Outside." She squeaked, and the enormas mass of bodies pressed up against the window to see what she was looking at. "Is she-! Oh my god!" Edward yelled as we saw Juliunna jump off the chasm wall spinning around as she did so. Immediently the Dauntless trainers were running down the hall, us right behind them.

…

"Are you stupid?!" Eric shouted at her for the third time on our way to the train, delayed by Juliunna's jump. "No, it was pretty exciting actually." Juliunna said with a laugh. She had a nearly wet, nearly dry towel drapped around her shoulders.

When we had all got down to the chasm, we found out that she had tied a stretchy rubber bungee robe to her waist, and had been jumping from jagged rock to jagged rock. When Eric had shouted at her from the railing, she had become so startled that she tripped and fell over into the swirling water. It took Four only a minute to pull her up from the dangerous tides and rapids. But Juliunna wasn't scared, in fact she laughed when she got up onto the safer side of the railing. And she laughed when Eric grabbed onto both of her elbows tight and pulled her against him so he could scare her with his calm and possessive whisper. She just shrugged and took her reprimands from Eric with a smirk, allowed Four to slip the towel around her rounded shoulders, and we all set off for the train in silence.

I didn't get a chance to talk to Juliunna. I was too mad at her for making me scared and nervous. But as I passed her I smacked her hard on her shoulder. I followed at a half jog half walk behind Christina on the way to the train. A drop of sweat rolls down the back of my neck as we run up the paths along the walls of the Pit, pushing past members on our way up. They don't seem surprised to see us.

I wonder how many frantic, running people they see on a weekly basis. We make it to the tracks just behind the Dauntless-born initiates. Next to the tracks is a black pile. I make out a cluster of long gun barrels and trigger guards. "Are we going to shoot something?" Christina hisses in my ear. Next to the pile are boxes of what looks like ammunition. I inch closer to read one of the boxes. Written on it is "PAINTBALLS." I've never heard of them before, but the name is self-explanatory. I laugh. "Everyone grab a gun!" shouts Eric. We rush toward the pile. I am the closest to it, so I snatch the first gun I can find, which is heavy, but not too heavy for me to lift, and grab a box of paintballs. I shove the box in my pocket and sling the gun across my back so the strap crosses my chest.

I look up and watch Jules and Eric grab one too, his arm slung around her dampen shoulders. Did she not remember my conversation about having no relations with Eric?!

"Time estimate?" Eric asks Four. Juliunna looks up with a sigh. "How long is it going to take you to memorize the train schedual?" She smirks, and Eric raises a suspcious eyebrow at her. "How did you know I was talking about the train schedual?" He asks, and I bit my lip nervously. Think Jules, think.

"Its all in your body laungauge. Also, you looked at the watch and then to the empty train tracks. Obviously we're all getting on the train. And during a long car ride I always ask the time estimate for ending times." She says with a smile. Eric nods after a moment. Four checks his watch after smiling at her. "Any minute now Eric. And she's right. You really try to memorize the train schedule?"

"Why should I, when I have you to remind me of it?" says Eric, shoving Four's shoulder. A circle of light appears on my left, far away. It grows larger as it comes closer, shining against the side of Four's face, creating a shadow in the faint hollow beneath his cheekbone. He is the first to get on the train, and I run after him, not waiting for Christina or Will or All to follow me. Four turns around as I fall into stride next to the car and Four holds out a hand. He pulls me in and I let go quickly without looking at him, and sit down on the other side of the car. Juliunna and Eric are next. When she is fully in the car he grabs her by the shoulder tight and steers her over to me. He pushed her hard and she stumbled next to me. "Don't be dramatic." He said to her, and I scowled as she sat down next to me. She smirks at him naughtily and I look away with disgust. Once everyone is in, Four speaks up.

"We'll be dividing into two teams to play capture the flag. Each team will have an even mix of members, Dauntless-born initiates, and transfers. One team will get off first and find a place to hide their flag. Then the second team will get off and do the same." The car sways, and Four grabs the side of the doorway for balance. "This is a Dauntless tradition, so I suggest you take it seriously."

"What do we get if we win?" someone shouts. "Sounds like the kind of question someone not from Dauntless would ask," says Four, raising an eyebrow. "You get to win, of course." "Four and I will be your team captains," says Eric. He looks at Four. "Let's divide up transfers first, shall we?"

I tilt my head back and even Juliunna looks nervous. If they're picking us, I will be chosen last; I can feel it. "You go first," Four says. Eric shrugs. "Edward." Four leans against the door frame and nods. The moonlight makes his eyes bright. He scans the group of transfer initiates briefly, without calculation, and says, "I want the Stiff." A faint undercurrent of laughter fills the car. Juliunna rolls her eyes in annoyance at the name Stiff. Heat rushes into my cheeks. I don't know whether to be angry at the people laughing at me or flattered by the fact that he chose me first.

"Got something to prove?" asks Eric, with his trademark smirk. "Or are you just picking the weak ones so that if you lose, you'll have someone to blame it on?" Four shrugs. "Something like that." Angry.

I should definitely be angry. I scowl at my hands. Whatever Four's strategy is, it's based on the idea that I am weaker than the other initiates. And it gives me a bitter taste in my mouth. I have to prove him wrong—I have to.

"Your turn," says Four. "Peter."

"Christina." That throws a wrench in his strategy. Christina is not one of t he weak ones. What exactly is he doing?

"Juliunna." Eric says, and Jules gets up and curls into Eric's side. He smirks again.

"Turner."

"Molly."

"Will," says Four, biting his thumbnail.

"Al."

"Drew."

"Last one left is Myra. So she's with me," says Eric. "Dauntless-born initia next." I stop listening once they're finished with us. If Four isn't trying to prove something by choosing the weak, what is he doing? I look at each person he chooses. What do we have in common? Once they're halfway through the Dauntless-born initiates, I have an idea of what it is. With the exception of Will and a couple of the others, we all share the same body type: narrow shoulders, small frames. All the people on Eric's team are broad and strong. Just yesterday, Four told me I was fast. We will all be faster than Eric's team, which will probably be good for capture the flag—I haven't played before, but I know it's a game of speed rather than brute force. I cover a smile with my hand. Eric is more ruthless than Four, but Four is smarter. They finish choosing teams, and Eric smirks at Four.

"Your team can get off second," says Eric. "Don't do me any favors," Four replies. He smiles a little. "You know I don't need them to win."

"No, I know that you'll lose no matter when you get off," says Eric, biting down briefly on one of the rings in his lip. "So just take your scrawny team and get off first, then." We all stand up. Al gives me a forlorn look, and I smile back in what I hope is a reassuring way. If any of the four of us had to end up on the same team as Eric, Peter, and Molly, at least it was him. They usually leave him alone. The train is about to dip to the ground. I am determined to land on my feet. Just before I jump, someone shoves my shoulder, and I almost topple out of the train car. I don't look back to see who it is—Molly, Drew, or Peter, it doesn't matter which one. Before they can try it again, I jump. This time I am ready for the momentum the train gives me, and I run a few steps to diffuse it but keep my balance. Fierce pleasure courses through me and I smile. It's a small accomplishment, but it makes me feel Dauntless.

One of the Dauntless-born initiates touches Four's shoulder and asks, "When your team won, where did you put the flag?"

"Telling you wouldn't really be in the spirit of the exercise, Marlene," he says coolly. "Come on, Four," she whines. She gives him a flirtatious smile. He brushes her hand off his arm, and for some reason, I find myself grinning. "Navy Pier," another Dauntless-born initiate calls out. He is tall, with brown skin and dark eyes. Handsome. "My brother was on the winning team. They kept the flag at the carousel." "Let's go there, then," suggests Will.

No one objects, so we walk east, toward the marsh that was once a lake. When I was young, I tried to imagine what it would look like as a lake, with no fence built in to the mud to keep the city safe. But it is difficult to imagine that much water in one place. "We're close to Erudite headquarters, right?" asks Christina, bumping Will's shoulder with her own. "Yeah. It's south of here," he says. He looks over his shoulder, and for a second his expression is full of longing. Then it's gone. I am less than a mile away from my brother. It has been a week since we were that close together.

I shake my head a little to get the thought out of my mind. I can't think about him today, when I have to focus on making it through stage one. I can't think about him any day. We walk across the bridge. We still need the bridges because the mud beneath them is too wet to walk on. I wonder how long it's been since the river dried up. Once we cross the bridge, the city changes. Behind us, most of the buildings were in use, and even if they weren't, they looked well-tended. I n front of us is a sea of crumbling concrete and broken glass. The silence of this part of the city is eerie; it feels like a nightmare. It's hard to see where I'm going, because it's after midnight and all the city lights are off. Marlene takes out a flashlight and shines it at the street in front of us. "Scared of the dark, Mar?" the dark-eyed Dauntless-born initiate teases. "If you want to step on broken glass, Uriah, be my guest," she snaps. But she turns it off anyway. I have realized that part of being Dauntless is being willing to make things more difficult for yourself in order to be self-sufficient. There's nothing especially brave about wandering dark streets with no flashlight, but we are not supposed to need help, even from light. We are supposed to be capable of anything. I like that. Because there might come a day when there is no flashlight, there is no gun, there is no guiding hand. And I want to be ready for it.

The buildings end just before the marsh. A strip of land juts out into the marsh, and rising from it is a giant white wheel with dozens of red passenger cars dangling from it at regular intervals. The Ferris wheel. "Think about it. People used to ride that thing. For fun," says Will, shaking his head. "They must have been Dauntless," I say. "Yeah, but a lame version of Dauntless." Christina laughs. "A Dauntless Ferris wheel wouldn't have cars. You would just hang on tight with your hands, an d good luck to you." We walk down the side of the pier. All the buildings on my le ft are empty, their signs torn down and their windows closed, but it is a clean kind of emptiness. Whoever left these places left them by choice and at their leisure. Some places in the city are not like that. "Dare you to jump into the marsh," says Christina to Will. "You first."

We reach the carousel. Some of the horses are scratched and weathered, their tails broken off or their saddles chipped. Four takes the flag out of his pocket. "In ten minutes, the other team will pick their location," he says. "I suggest you take this time to formulate a strategy. We may not be Erudite, but mental preparedness is one aspect of your Dauntless training. Arguably, it is the most important aspect." He is right about that. What good is a prepared body if you have a scattered mind? Will takes the flag from Four. "Some people should stay here and guard, and some people should go out and scout the other team's location," Will says. "Yeah? You think?" Marlene plucks the flag from Will's fingers. "Who put you in charge, transfer?" "No one," says Will. "But someone's got to do it." Yep we should develop a more defensive strategy. Wait for them to come to us, then take them out," suggests Christina.

"That's the sissy way out," Uriah says. "I vote we go all out. Hide the flag well enough that they can't find it." Everyone bursts into the conversation at once, their voices louder with each passing second. Christina defends Will's plan; the Dauntless-born initiates vote for offense; everyone argues about who should make the decision. Four sits down on the edge of the carousel, leaning against a plastic horse's foot. His eyes lift to the sky, where there are no stars, only a round moon peeking through a thin layer of clouds. The muscles in his arms are relaxed; his hand rests on the back of his neck. He looks almost comfortable, holding that gun to his shoulder. I close my eyes briefly. Why does he distract me so easily? I need to focus.

But then a sudden thought occurred to me.

Why does Juliunna call herself Malfoy when her last name is Addams?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

**Normal Pov**

Upon getting off the bus at 8:05 this morning, Juliunna proceeded directly to the school cafeteria. The concrete walls she passed on her way was a reminder that she had gym today. She hated Gym and as said in the first chapter, would rather cut herself then go though an hour and fifteen minutes in gym. The line for breakfast was quickly growing and was reaching two spaced out tables behind the lunch line door, meaning the line stretched halfway through the cafeteria. The rule is unless you plan on eating during breakfast, you stay on the bus and don't come off it until 8:15. Five minutes until the school starts officially.

"Jules." Taylor bellowed as they passed each other in the hall, giving each other high fives.

"You got music?" Juliunna asked, stopping at the cafeteria door, Taylor turned around as she was walking the way Juliunna came from, and started walking backwards slowly.

"No, Gym. Don't you got math?" She asked, and Juliunna nodded. "Yeah, see you later." Juliunna said, waving her goodbye. She turned around and went face full into a wall of muscle. "Blah! Ah not you again!" Juliunna snapped at Tyler, who was smirking devilishly at her. She took a small step to the right to move by him, and he took an even bigger step to the right, blocking her way.

"Not so fast. I've got a message." Tyler said with a smirk, his liquid blue eyes shining and glittering mischeviously. Juliunna groaned.

"From who? You?"

"Nope. Miss Calkin, your child study worker, has assigned me something that I've been asking to do since last week." Tyler said with a smirk, and Juliunna walked five steps to the right and pass him. He walked beside her, causing her to get angry.

"What has she assigned you?" She glared at him, taking a seat at the empty table in the middle of the cafeteria. Madaija, Juliunna's best friend, was in line. Se would be out in minutes.

He smirked and reached out to grab a piece of her curly hair between his fingers. "I'm shadowing you all week under 'Research Purposes'." Tyler said, using air quotes. Juliunna bit her lip nervously. "Uh… Shadowing me?"

"I'll be studying what it is to be a big shot smart person who acts like he wishes to be a virgin his whole life-!"

"Virgin my ass." Juliunna muttered under her breath, glancing at the clock. Tyler frowned at her. "What'd you say?"

"Nothing." She snapped at him. After a second, Tyler spoke.

"So as I was saying, I'll be going to all of your classes, sitting in class next to you, and the greatest part is thatI can take you out of your classes for however long I want to privately interview you.!" Tyler snapped at her maliciously. Juliunna froze. "What… but… What about your classes-!"

"I'm excluded from all of my classes, and I have no makeup work!" Tyler said, and then leaned forward to whisper in her ear. His breath tickled her earlobe.

"You want to hear a joke-!"

"How about the one where the perverted creep gets kicked in the crotch?!" Juliunna snapped at him, and then stood up to wait in line for Madaija. She came out, a muffin in each hand and a juice cup on top of one of the muffins.

"Alright Jules. Chocolate muffin or bananna-!"

"I'm not hungry. I'm going to Miss Calkin's office to tell her that I am not going to bring Tyler to all of my classes-!"

"Good luck with that." Tyler said, suddenly coming out from behind her and wrapping his burly arms around her waist. Juliunna scowled.

"Why do you say that-!"

"Come over here sweetie." Tyler said, gripping the small of her back tightly and guided her over to the out of order ice cream machine in the far corner. Away from the prying eyes and ears of the students around them. Juliunna looked over her shoulder at Madaija, who was grinning at the two of them from her view at the table.

"Do you know what this is?" Tyler asked, and reached behind him and into his conveniently open book bag. He took out a large purple composite notebook, and Juliunna's eyes flared angrily. "Is that what I think it is?" She asked with clenched teeth, and Tyler smirked.

"Where did you get that?!" She snarled.

"You left it on the lunch table last Friday. You really shouldn't leave potential reputation ruiners around where just anyone can find it." Tyler smirked, and opened the book quickly, running his thumb across the thin pages.

"Your way of seeing the world is aweful and inspiring. But your thoughts are so dark and dangerous for a pretty, little girl-!"

"I can think however I want! I don't care what I look like and I don't care what you think of me at all! Now give me my book-!"

"It would be a shame if someone got a hold of this, wouldn't it?" Peter asked, flipping to the page all the way in the back of a Wicca star. Juliunna bit her lip worriedly.

"And I suppose you would be possible expelled or sent to the hospital if the teachers discovered you were continually writing all your dangerous thoughts and feeling into this very notebook. As I recall, you want to grow up and cause much fear as you can in this world. Terrorize it. You want to live with those among fairytales. For someone intelligent I would have thought that your dreams would have been to become the first women president or something. Smartest and hottest scientist of the century. But you want to manifest demons that don't even exist, might I add, and end your reign of terror by killing someone. Oh, and everyone in the world wants a nice, quick death. You want to die softly and painfully. Like some kind of crazy bondage shit-!"

"Shut up!" Juliunna snapped at him. And he opened up to the first page. "You know Jules, I suppose we can make a deal." Tyler said with a fake, airy sigh. Juliunna glared at him.

"What kind of deal?"

"You do what I say, and I don't give this notebook to the principle." He said with a smirk. Juliunna frowned.

"I… I'll just tell-!" She said weakly, but even she knew it was a stupid idea. "You do realize that they'll want to look at the notebook after you tell them? You do realize I won't just stay silent when they ask me why I took the notebook. I'll lie and say that I'm worried for your safety with this stupid thing. Either you do what I say, or I'll make your life a living hell." He said with a glare. Juliunna groaned.

"What… What do you want me to do?" She asked. Tyler's lips stretched so wide, his eyelids started to stretch.

"My parents are going on a business trip today. I'll see you at my house after school." Tyler said with a smirk, and Juliunna's eyes widened as he tucked the notebook back into his bag, and set off for the hall.

"I need help." Juliunna said with a scared and disappointed shake of her head.

**…**

When I fall asleep in Gym, escaping Tyler by sleeping in the girls locker room on the bench, I trudge into the training room, yawning, a large target stands at one en d of the room, and next to the door is a table with knives strewn across it. Target practice again. At least it won't hurt. Eric stands in the middle of the room, his posture so rigid it looks like someone replaced his spine with a metal rod. With a yawn I walk forward and wrap an arm around his shoulder. He bristles, but upon seeing me relaxed.

The sight of him makes me feel like all the air has left my lungs and is swirling around my body, and suddenly the room is lighter, making me float on the tips of my toes. At least when he was slouched against a wall, I could pretend he wasn't here. It made me very nervous when he evaluated my physical assets, and it was easier to pretend he was not here whenever he stood against the wall. Today I can't pretend because he's standing around in the middle of the room like its nobody's business. He reached out and wrapped a strong arm around my waist.

"Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one," Eric said. "You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick up three knives." His voice is deeper than usual. "And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them." At first no one moves.

"**Now!"** We scramble for daggers. They aren't as heavy as guns, but they still feel strange in my hands, like I am not allowed to hold them. Well, that's how they always are. But their fairly easy to throw. "He's in a bad mood today," mumbles Christina. "Is he ever in a good mood?" Tris murmured back. But I know what she means. Judging by the poisonous look Eric gives Four when he isn't paying attention, last night's loss must have bothered Eric more than he let on. Winning capture the flag is a matter of pride, and pride is important to the Dauntless. More important than reason or sense. Yeah, I know I had went back to my reality before then, but it was pretty worth while to read the book and now know the outcome and what I can change and can't. Pretty cool. I watch Four's arm as he throws a knife. He's strong and flexible, and its very awesome to see it.

The next time he throws, I watch his stance. He hits the target each time, exhaling as he releases the knife. This is going to be very easy. Eric, after real orders, "Line up!" Haste, I think, will not help. Tris's mother told her that when she was learning how to knit. All Tris and I have to think of this as a mental exercise, not a physical exercise. So I spend the first few minutes practicing without a knife, finding the right stance, learning the right arm motion. Eric paces too quickly behind us. "I think the Stiff's taken too many hits to the head!" remarks Peter, a few people down. "Hey, Stiff! Remember what a knife is?" Ignoring him, Tris practice the throw again with a knife in hand but doesn't release it. She shuts out Eric's pacing, and Peter's jeering, and the nagging feeling that Four is staring at her, and throw the knife. It spins end over end, slamming into the board. The blade doesn't stick, but she's the first person to hit the target. I smirk as Peter misses again. I can't help myself.

"Hey, Peter," I say. "Remember what a target is?" Next to me, Christina snorts, and her next knife hits the target. A half hour later, Al is the only initiate who hasn't hit the target yet. His knives clatter to the floor, or bounce off the wall. While the rest of us approach the board to collect our weapons, he hunts the floor for his. The next time he tries and misses, Eric marches toward him and demands,

"How slow are you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?" Al's face turns red. I frown in smphany as he throws another knife, and this one sails a few feet to the right of the target. It spins and hits the wall. "What was that, initiate?" says Eric quietly, leaning closer to Al. I bite my lip. This isn't good.

"It—it slipped," says Al. "Well, I think you should go get it," Eric says. He scans the other initiates' faces —everyone has stopped throwing again—and says, "Did I tell you to stop?" Knives start to hit the board. We have all seen Eric angry before, but this is different. The look in his eyes is almost rabid. I wince and edge towards the safety of my fellow initiates. He looks real scary.

"Go get it?" Al's eyes are wide. "But everyone's still throwing."

"And?"

"And I don't want to get hit."

"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you." Eric smiles a little, but his eyes stay cruel. "Go get your knife." Al doesn't usually object to anything the Dauntless tell us to do. I don't think he's afraid to; he just knows that objecting is useless. This time Al sets his wide jaw. He's reached the limits of his compliance. "No," he says.

"Why not?" Eric's beady eyes fix on Al's face. "Are you afraid?"

"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife?" says Al. "Yes, I am!" Honesty is his mistake. Not his refusal, which Eric might have accepted. "Everyone stop!" Eric shouts. The knives stop, and so does all conversation. I hold my small dagger tightly. "Clear out of the ring." Eric looks at Al. "All except you." I drop the dagger and it hits the dusty floor with a thud. I follow the other initiates to the edge of the room, and they inch in front of me, eager to see what makes my stomach turn: Al, facing Eric's wrath. "Stand in front of the target," says Eric. I frown. In the book, Tris takes Al's place. I want to take her place now though, very badly.

Al's big hands shake. He walks back to the target. "Hey, Four." Eric looks over his shoulder. "Give me a hand here, huh?" Four scratches one of his eyebrows with a knife point and approaches Eric. He has dark circles under his eyes and a tense set to his mouth—he's as tired as we are. "You're going to stand there as he throws those knives," Eric says to Al, "until you learn not to flinch."

"Is this really necessary?" says Four. He sounds bored, but he doesn't look bored. His face and body are tense, alert. I squeeze my hands into fists. No matter how casual Four sounds, the question is a challenge. And Four doesn't often challenge Eric directly. At first Eric stares at Four in silence. Four stares back. Seconds pass and my fingernails bite my palms in anxiousness and excitedment.

"I have the authority here, remember?" Eric says, so quietly I can barely hear him. "Here, and everywhere else." Color rushes into Four's face, though his expression does not change. His grip on the knives tightens and his knuckles turn white as he turns to face Al. I look from Al's wide, dark eyes to his shaking hands to the determined set of Four's jaw. Excitement bubbles in my chest, and the soft but powerful words bursts from my mouth:

"Stop it." I say, and Four turns the knife in his hand, his fingers moving painstakingly over the metal edge. He gives me such a hard look that I feel like he's turning me to stone. I know why. I am stupid for speaking up while Eric is here; I am stupid for speaking up at all. But I like it and I like the excitement and tense glares I'm getting from Eric, promising punishment. I don't care.

"Any idiot can stand in front of a target," I say. "It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice."

"Then it should be easy for you," Eric says. "If you're willing to take his place, Princess." This ought to be good. Eric raises a thin eyebrow at me telling me to wordlessly stay down, but I can't back down now. I didn't leave myself the option. I weave through the crowd of initiates, and someone shoves my shoulder. "There goes your pretty face," hisses Peter. "Oh, wait. You don't have one."

"That's what you think. I like your black eye Peter." I snap as I recover my balance and walk toward Al. He nods at me. I try to smile encouragingly, but I can't manage it. I stand in front of the board, and my head doesn't even reach the center of the target, but it doesn't matter. I look at Four's knives: one in his right hand, two in his left hand. My throat is squeezing itself in, but my eyes are wide and excited.

I try to swallow, and then look at Four. He is never sloppy. He won't hit me. I'll be fine. I tip my chin up. I will not flinch. If I flinch, I prove to Eric that this is not as easy as I said it was; I prove that I'm a coward. "If you flinch," Four says, slowly, carefully, "Al takes your place. Understand?" I nod. Four's eyes are still on mine when he lifts his hand, pulls his elbow back, and throws the knife. It is just a flash in the air, and then I hear a thud. The knife is buried in the board, half a foot away from my cheek. I close my eyes and take a deep, sighing breath.

"You about done, know it all?" asks Four. I remember Al's wide eyes and his quiet sobs from the book that happens at night, and shake my head. "No."

"Eyes open, then." He taps the spot between his eyebrows. I stare at him, pressing my hands to my sides so no one can see them shake. He passes a knife from his left hand to his right hand, and I see nothing but his eyes as the second knife hits the target above my head. This one is closer than the last one—I feel it hovering over my skull. "Come on, brainy," he says. "Let someone else stand there and take it." Why is he trying to goad me into giving up? Shouldn't he be saying that to Tris and Tris only? Or is he symphetic for all people?

"Shush it, Four!" I hold my breath as he turns the last knife in his hand. I see a glint in his eyes as he pulls his arm back and lets the knife fly. It comes straight at me, spinning, blade over handle. My body goes rigid. This time, when it hits the board, my ear stings, and blood tickles my skin. I touch my ear. He nicked it. And judging by the look he gives me, he did it on purpose. That is hot. "I would love to stay and see if the rest of you are as daring as she is," says Eric, his voice smooth, "but I think that's enough for today." He squeezes my shoulder. His fingers feel dry and cold, and the look he gives me claims me, like he's taking ownership of what I did. I do return Eric's smile, and I feel hot in the brain.

"You know, I don't usually like it when people show their strengths over mine. I think you could consider yourself lucky. Come on, let's go up to my room." Eric murmered in my ear. "Let's talk over a drink." Eric said, and then gripped my hand tight. He started pulling me to the hallway.

"Eric!" I giggle, and there's a sudden tap on my shoulder before we could get out the door. With a sigh, I turn around.

And stare in terror and sudden shock.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

**Normal Pov**

"Tyler!" I said in shock. What's going on?

"Hey, where are we? This is weird." Tyler said, and then gripped my shoulder and pulled me forward roughly. My chin his shoulder hard. And I scowled as he wrapped his arms tight around me.

"Tyler get off me! And keep your voice down." I whispered, and Eric walked forward, his eyes narrowing at Tyler evily.

"Where did you come from, Tyler?" Eric drawled out.

"School." Tyler said coolly. He leaned forward and pushed me behind him, taking a step in front of me protectively.

"How old are you?" Eric asked.

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen?! But your in eight grade." I said to him in shock.

"So, and I failed a few things. Plus I got into this whole held back mess for getting some chick pregnant. Then I nailed my teacher. Then my other teacher. The crossing guard. Some other chick. The landscaper. My babysitter. My tutor. The principal. Another chick-!"

"Tyler I don't care about your sex life! Now shut up and pay attention. I'm sorry Eric this will only take a second. Come here Tyler." I said with a deep breath. Without another word I gripped his upper arm with both hands and then guided him into the hallway. Ignoring the silence in the room and the staring people, I shut the door and pushed him flat against the wall.

"Tyler listen to me, and listen to me good." I said with an angry scowl. "How did you get into my head?" I said.

"I'm in your head?... So I can do this and not get in trouble at all." Tyler said with a smirk, and I squeeked as he grabbed my shoulders and threw me against the wall. Covering my mouth with his in a chilly kiss. I screamed in his mouth as he tightened his grip on me. I punched him hard in the shoulder, kicked him in the knees, and even bit his tongue. Yet he moaned into my mouth as if I was making out with him willingly! When he pulled back, he made a show out of lifting his hand to his mouth, and wiping his lips off with the back of his hand. Extra slow while looking at me, he dipped his index finger in his mouth and swirled it around painfully slow. I could see every single movement. His soft, wet tongue dragging itself around his index finger. He dragged his finger across his teeth and gums, as if trying to savor every last bit of my taste in his mouth.

"Mmm." He moaned when he took his finger out of his mouth, and his eyes flashed darkly as I grimaced. "You taste like sugar and strawberries." He smirked at me, and I raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him.

"Really? You taste like tobacco, alchohal, and semen. Not a very nice taste on my part. In fact, I'm worrying that you may have more types of sexual dieses then Quagmire." I said, making Tyler laugh.

"Good one. Hey, didn't you ask me a question?"

"Yeah, how did you get in my head?"

"Hmm… Well stay with me on this one. Listen and wait until I finish." Tyler said, holding up his hands in defense. I raised an eyebrow again. "What did you do?"

"I saw you sneaking into the girls locker room during laps. So I snuck in and was planing on surprising you by waking you up. I climbed on top of you-!"

"What?! You creep!" I shoutted at him, reaching out and hitting his head. He rubbed it painfully.

"Yeah, I know. And I got a little carried away with myself. I got really tired while I was kissing you-!"

"Ahh!" I clamped both hands over my mouth and screamed. He chuckled lightly. "Yeah, there was something up with your book. I was wondering why you were sleeping on it. I mean it couldn't have been very comfortable-!"

"Tyler shush. Listen to me." I whispered softly, thinking of the cameras. I walked closer until we were toe to toe and touching shoes. He raised both eyebrows as I leaned forward and gripped both of his large, bulging shoulders. Lifting myself up, I leant closer to his ear.

"Don't get too cocky. There are camera's all up and down this hallway, all over this place, streaming live feed to the control room. This is dangerous. It wouldn't do for us to be overheard." I murmered softly in his ear, Tyler's facial expression changing from surprise, to shock, to pleasure, to glumness, and then to alertness as I talked.

"What? Tell me more."

"They already have suspicions about me. In sleep my unconciousness is stronger then my conciousness. So when normal people dream, I interactively dream. Meaning I'm aware when I'm dreaming. But this isn't a continuous thing of course. If I lay my head on a book, I can drift off into it, become part of the story and fit in as if I'm just an original character. Tyler you don't understand how serious and dangerous it is that you go undercover. They will kill you if they find out who and where we actually came from." I whispered. Tyler took a deep breath, and then nodded.

Jules?" He asked, staring into my eyes. I frowned. "What?"

"Why don't you like me?" He asked simply, and I was caught off guard. "What-!"

"Everyone else at school likes me. All the guys want to be me, all the girls want to be with me. You act like the world would be easier if I didn't exist." He said, and for the first time I felt sorry for him. I looked up into his beautiful blue eyes and imagined myself giving myself over to him. For the first time I had ever witnessed since I met him, he looked normal and likable. He wasn't looking cocky or smirking. Staring at me with those 'Knowing' eyes and knowing that he expects me to drop to my knees and beg for him. I saw a kind boy. His face was smooth and serious like-! Damn I see his lips trying not to twitch into a smirk!

Evil little ass is trying to pull a fast one over on me. Not going to happen.

"Bug off loser." I snapped at him, and he burst into a parade of laughter. "Shoot! That works on all the other girls-!"

"Well not me obviously." I snapped at him angrily. He smirked at me, his blue eyes twinkling mischeviously.

"So, what do we do now?" He asked. And I leaned forward again, pressing my lips to his ear. He reached behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He shivered against me, stifling a groan. I grimaced.

"Tyler, stop. We don't need to be that convincing."

"Just say what you were going to say." He muttered, and then started twirling his hand around my back.

"Okay then." I shivered, his fingers started to drift lower and lower.

"Your from Dauntless. You finished initiation last year. Kay?" I asked him, and he nodded. His eyes were closed, his chest heaving slowing. "Yeah, yeah. So, am I like you? Strong in the mind?"

"Probably, either that or you created some kind of friction portal by trying to molest me in my sleep." I said with gritted teeth. And he smirked at me.

"Really, so let me ask you a question. Do you want me to stop this?" He asked, leaning forward and pressing his soft lips to my neck. I grit my teeth. "Or how about this-!"

"Get off. Yes I want you to stop." I snapped at him, and then back pedaled until I was suddenly pressed up against the other wall. He glared at me.

"What the fuck is your problem-!"

"You're my problem. Now get away from me. Once we get conscious again I want you out of my life!" I snapped at him. He grinned at me.

"Forgetting about the notebook sweetie-!"

"Screw the notebook!" I snapped at him. He frowned. "I told you Tyler, I don't care what anybody thinks of me. Not you, my friends, or anybody. Let them see the truth. I don't care. Because letting you do what you want to do to me, is a fate worse then death. So just leave me alone." I snapped at him. He frowned after a second.

"What… You just think you know everything-!"

"That's not true-!"

"But it is. I don't even know why I like you so much. Your nothing special. Your pretty enough, but then it really gets down to the inside of your character. Your just a sad, depressing little girl who thinks of no one but herself-!"

"I'm not discussing this with you Tyler." I snapped at him angirily. There were tears in my eyes. I felt dirty, as if I needed to take another shower. He reached out and grabbed my arm tightly. He pulled me forward, bringing me into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said that-!" He said, trying to soothe me.

"Get off of me you freak!"

"No!" He shouted suddenly. "You need to hear this." He said, gripping me tighter and pulling me flush against his chest. I could feel his bulging erection against my thigh-! Oh shit.

"Okay Tyler. Hurry up and say what you want me to say. I'm waiting." I said, trying to step back. He only held me tighter.

"I… I love you." He said with a seriously straight face.

"What?!" I snapped at him. "Tyler, all of our conversations that we had since we've met consisted of you chasing after me and me trying to escape you. You can't be in love with me."

"But I can't get you out of my head! I-! I've been thinking about you a lot lately, and I even cried when you rejected my invitation to class night. I get all hot in the brain when I see you-!"

"Which brain? The one in your head or the one in you pants?"

"Both!"

I had definitely meant that as a joke and an insult.

"Okay, let me stop you there Tyler. You are not the one for me. Nor are you in love with me. I've had my thoughts about it, and this just proves it. Your not in love. It started out as an infatuation. You noticed me when I rejected you the first time in sixth grade, right?" I asked him, and he nodded. There was a plump glare on his face. I suppose he didn't like me correcting him.

"And as time went on, you became more pesistant. I think you became obsessed-!"

"Ha!" Tyler laughed, and I pushed him away from me. I felt dirty again, and I edged away towards the door.

"Yes, if you aren't there yet, you will be soon. You don't like to hear the word no, and you don't like to be told your wrong. You are a cold, heartless jerk who doesn't love Tyler. You've slept with almost the whole school!"

"Almost, because your not one of them." Tyler said with a smirk, forgetting to think. Immediently his eyes widened. "Oops."

"Yeah, listen to this Tyler. You are a cold hearted jerk, and I have seen you every day, every hour of the school day parading around this school like you own the place. You think you will always get everything in life. But," I strode forward so he could look me in the eye. I jab his chest with my finger with ever word.

"I will never date you. I hate you." I sounded out carefully. His eyes were wide and hurt, but I didn't stop. Taking my hand away, I walked back towards the door.

"You try so hard to love, but you don't even know what it is." I said, with a glare. "I will never love you." I said, and I wrapped my hand around the door. Before I could open it, he stormed up to me. His fist swung up and slammed into my nose, making me crash back to the floor painfully. My head cracked on the granite floor and I saw stars. "Ahh!" I cried out, holding my face painfully. It was wet. Its bleeding! "You broke my nose-!"

"And you broke my heart." He snapped at me, and he kicked me in the side hard. I screamed out, he was wearing some kind of thick winter boot shoes, and the bottom was decorated with small metal clips, and they hurt. Without another look at me he turned around and strode down the hallway, I thought I saw tears in his eyes but it was hard to tell. The door opened when Tyler rounded the hallway, and Tris stared down at me in shock. "Help." She said over her shoulder, and I reached up to cradle by hand on my nose.

"Its broken isn't it?" I asked as Will walked through the door and helped me to my feet. "Looks like it. Did that Tyler guy do this?" He asked as Eric came in. Eric clamped his hand around my wrist and pulled it away from my face.

"Yeah, he did." I said as Eric reached out and ran his finger down my cheek, trailing blood on his finger.

"Find him." He barked as Max came around the corner. "The big dude who was here a few minutes ago?" Max asked, and I wondered if he was on control room duty. "Yeah. His name is Tyler." Eric said, and as Max and a few other Dauntless went running off, Eric started guiding me down the hall.

"Hold your head back and pinch the bridge of your nose-!"

"But Eric, that's for nosebloods." I said, and he frowned. "Yeah, but I'll get you an ice pack when we get to the apartment. Until then, I have nothing." Eric said, and pinched my nose and held it back. It didn't help the pain, but it did help the gushing blood. I fought back the annoyed look on my face, and stroked my nose with a spare finger. There was a small dent in my nose, and I realized that the bastard had been wearing a ring. When I brushed my nose my finger trailed over a small 'T' initial. Wow.

"Come on, this way. What's wrong with your leg?" Eric asked, and stroked my thigh. I sqeeked and jumped away. A bit of Tyler's boot had hit me there, and he made claw like markings on my skin. "It hurts. He kicked me." I snapped when Eric tried to touch it.

"Well I'll get you some antisceptic and fix you right up." He assured me, and we walked up the stairs quickly, Eric's hand placed on my lower back just in case I fell.

"What are you going to do to Tyler when you find him?" I asked when we reached the top of the stairs. Eric smirked at me.

"A nose for a nose." Was all he said, and I fought back the frown on my face. I hated Tyler, but I knew Eric would show him no mercy. He was too vicious for that.

"Come." Eric said simply, and guided me inside the pristine room. "Nice room." I complimented him nicely. He smiled at me with a tip of his head.

**Thirty minutes later**

A tug on my navel pulled me away from Eric's side, and awoke on top of Tyler. He was still asleep. I looked behind me to see Brittney, a girl I didn't like at all in my Gym Class. She was smirking at me, deviously.

"Your sleeping with Tyler? Have you two even kissed yet?" She whispered. I frowned. Where were the other girls?

"I just came in to get my bag." She said, her lips curling back. I arched out of Tyler's arms and when I was finally on my feet, I looked at the large, clear clock on the wall. It was 12:40. People would be filing in five minutes or less.

"Thanks. Could you wake him up in two minutes or so?" I asked, and she nodded. "Yeah, sure. I can't wait to tell everyone that you were sleeping on him-!"

"He climbed on me first. I don't like him. Are you jealous or soething-!"

"Jealous! Of you?!" She snapped, and then threw her head back in a cruel laugh. I rolled my eyes. Before she could say anything else, I grabbed my Divergent book out of Tyler's hands, and then stormed out of the gym room. Gym was over in ten minutes, but my home room wouldn't be able to know I left early. They didn't even know what time my gym was over. The only problem was that my gym teaches might notice. So I decided to treck back.

I hate gym.

**…**

"Get up." Tyler barked quietly at me in Homeroom. I looked up at the clock, 1:16. When did he get here?

"Where were you?" I asked. I got out of gym at 12:50. That was twenty six minutes ago and he's just showing up now. Apparently, any physical statures or abilities I receive in the dream world disappear when I'm in back in reality. My nose is now completely fixed, and my leg is scatch free.

"I fucked a bitch. What do you think I was doing?" He snapped, at me, and then gripped my wrist tightly. I looked around the class. A few of them were looking back at me curiously, others just continuing on with their daily lives.

"Nice." I said sarcastically. Then ripped my hand away from him. I took the headphones off my head and put them on the computer desk I was currently at.

"So were you found?" I asked Peter, and he nodded.

"Yeah, someone was totally kicking my nuts in when Brittney woke me up. Then I took her into the private girls bathroom and fucked her." He whispered sensually in my ear, and I grimaced.

"Ew." I said. He smirked at me and put his hand on my thigh, concealed under the computer desk. Ignoring him, I turned back to the big computer, reading the book, Sensualities of Sensity. _And she looked up to face the wall, her eyelashes tickling her pink cheeks softly-!_

Tyler started stroking my thigh, leaning forward to press his lips to my neck. His tongue flicked out on a pulsing point on my neck. I raised an eyebrow at the heat rising and surging through my body. "Stop making me wet." I snapped at him, and then pushed him away. He smirked at me.

"What? I'm making you wet? Maybe I do have a chance after all."

"Nope, it doesn't mean that you have a chance. It just means that I'm a teenage girl with raging hormones and a need for sexual activity. Plus I get really horny when I'm about to get my period. I'm probably about to get it." I said, and Tyler grimaced.

"Ew. Don't we have to go to science?" He asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, but you should stay here." I said, standing up. He grinned at me angrily.

"Why?"

"Because I want to finish my project today. And if your distracting all my group members its not going to work out. Stay here." I said, and he wrapped his hand around my wrist. "Juliunna," He started, looking into my eye.

"No." He finished with a smirk. 


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter is relatively important to the Tris/Four relationship I want in this story.

Chapter 7:

**Beatrice/Tris Pov**

Today is the day before Visiting Day. I think of Visiting Day like I think of the world ending: Nothing after it matters. Everything I do builds up to it. I might see my parents again. I might not. Which is worse? I don't know. I try to pull a pant leg over my thigh and it sticks just above my knee. Frowning, I stare at my leg. A bulge of muscle is stopping the fabric. I let the pant leg fall and look over my shoulder at the back of my thigh. Another muscle stands out there. I step to the side so I stand in front of the mirror. I see muscles that I couldn't see before in my arms, legs, and stomach. I pinch my side, where a layer of fat used to hint at curves to come. Nothing. Dauntless initiation has stolen whatever softness my body had. Is that good, or bad? At least I am stronger than I was.

I wrap my towel around me again and leave the girls' bathroom. I hope no one is in the dormitory to see me walking in my towel, but I can't wear those pants. When I open the dormitory door, a weight drops into my stomach. Peter, Molly, Drew, and some of the other initiates stand in the back corner, laughing. They look up when I walk in and start snickering. Molly's snort-laugh is louder than everyone else's. I walk to my bunk, trying to pretend like they aren't there, and fumble in the drawer under my bed for the dress Christina made me get.

One hand clamped around the towel and one holding the dress, I stand up, and right behind me is Peter. I jump back, almost hitting my head on Christina's bunk. I try to slip past him, but he slams his hand against Christina's bed frame, blocking my path. I should have known he wouldn't let me get away that easily. "Didn't realize you were so skinny, Stiff." "Get away from me." My voice is somehow steady.

"This isn't the Hub, you know. No one has to follow a Stiff's orders here." His eyes travel down my body, not in the greedy way that a man looks at a woman, but cruelly, scrutinizing every flaw. I hear my heart beat in my ears as the others inch closer, forming a pack behind Peter. This will be bad. I have to get out of here. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a clear path to the door. If I can duck under Peter's arm and sprint toward it, I might be able to make it. "Look at her," says Molly, crossing her arms. She smirks at me. "She's practically a child." "Oh, I don't know," says Drew. "She could be hiding something under that towel. Why don't we look and see?"

Now. I duck under Peter's arm and dart toward the door. Something pinches and pulls at my towel as I walk away and then yanks sharply—Peter's hand, gathering the fabric into his fist. The towel slips from my hand and the air is cold on my naked body, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Laughter erupts, and I run as fast as I can toward the door, holding the dress against my body to hide it. I sprint down the hallway and into the bathroom and lean against the do or, breathing hard. I close my eyes. It doesn't matter. I don't care. A sob bursts from my mouth, and I slap my hand over my lips to contain it. It doesn't matter what they saw. I shake my head like the motion is supposed to make it true. With shaking hands, I get dressed. The dress is plain black, with a V-neck that shows the tattoos on my collarbone, and goes down to my knees. Once I'm dressed and the urge to cry is gone, I feel something hot and violent writhing in my stomach. I want to hurt them. I stare at my eyes in the mirror. I want to, so I will.

I can't fight in a dress, so I get myself some new clothes from the Pit before I walk to the training room for my last fight. I hope it's with Peter. "Hey, where were you this morning?" Christina asks when I walk in. I squint to see the blackboard across the room. The space next to my name is blank—I haven't gotten an opponent yet. "I got held up," I say. Four stands in front of the board and writes a name next to mine. Please let it be Peter, please, please….

"You okay, Tris? You look a little…," says Al.

"A little what?"

Four moves away from the board. The name written next to mine is Molly. Not Peter, but good enough. "On edge," says Al. My fight is last on the list, which means I have to wait through three matches before I face her. Edward and Peter fight second to last—good. Edward is the only one who can beat Peter. Christina will fight Al, which means that Al will lose quickly, like he's been doing all week. "Go easy on me, okay?" Al asks Christina. "I make no promises," she replies. The first pair—Will and Myra—stand across from each other in the arena. For a second they both shuffle back and forth, one jerking an arm forward and then retracting it, the other kicking and missing. Across the room, Four leans against the wall and yawns. I stare at the board and try to predict the outcome of each match. It doesn't take long. Then I bite my fingernails and think about Molly. Christina lost to her, which means she's good. She has a powerful punch, but she doesn't move her feet. If she can't hit me, she can't hurt me. As expected, the next fight between Christina and All is quick and painless. All falls after a few hard hits to the face and doesn't get back up, which makes Eric shake his head.

Edward and Peter take longer. Though they are the two best fighters, the disparity between them is noticeable. Edward's fist slams into Peter's jaw, and I remember what Will said about him—that he has been studying combat since he was ten. It's obvious. He is faster and smarter than even Peter. By the time the three matches are done, my nails are bitten to the beds and I'm hungry for lunch. I walk to the arena without looking at anyone or anything but the center of the room. Some of my anger has faded, but it isn't hard to call back. All I have to do is think about how cold the air was and how loud the laughter was. Look at her.

She's a child.

Molly stands across from me. "Was that a birthmark I saw on your left butt cheek?" She says, smirking. "God, you're pale, Stiff." She'll make the first move. She always does. Molly starts toward me and throws her weight into a punch. As her body shifts forward, I duck and drive my fist into her stomach, right over her bellybutton.

Before she can get her hands on me, I slip past her, my hands up, ready for her next attempt. She's not smirking anymore. She runs at me like she's about to tackle me, and I dart out of the way. I hear Four's voice in my head, telling me that the most powerful weapon at my disposal is my elbow. I just have to find a way to use it. I block her next punch with my forearm. The blow stings, but I barely notice it. She grits her teeth and lets out a frustrated groan, more animal-sounding than human. She tries a sloppy kick at my side, which I dodge, and while her balance is off, I rush forward and force my elbow up at her face. She pulls her head back just in time, and my elbow grazes her chin. She punches me in the ribs and I stumble to the side, recovering my breath. There's something she's not protecting, I know it. I want to hit her face, but maybe that's not a smart move. I watch her for a few seconds. Her hands are too high; they guard her nose and cheeks, leaving her stomach and ribs exposed. Molly and I have the same flaw in combat.

Our eyes meet for just a second.

I aim an uppercut low, below her bellybutton. My fist sinks into her flesh, forcing a heavy breath from her mouth that I feel against my ear. As she gasps, I sweep-kick her legs out from under her, and she falls hard on the ground, sending dust into the air. I pull my foot back and kick as hard as I can at her ribs. My mother and father would not approve of my kicking someone when she's down. I don't care. She curls into a ball to protect her side, and I kick again, this time hitting her in the stomach. Like a child. I kick again, this time hitting her in the face. Blood springs from her nose and spreads over her face. Look at her. Another kick hits her in the chest. I pull my foot back again, but Four's hands clamp around my arms, and he pulls me away from her with irresistible force. I breathe through gritted teeth, staring at Molly's blood-covered face, the color deep and rich and beautiful, in a way. She groans, and I hear a gurgling in her throat, watch blood trickle from her lips. "You won," Four mutters. "Stop." I wipe the sweat from my forehead. He stares at me. His eyes are too wide; they look alarmed. "I think you should leave," he says. "Take a walk."

"I'm fine," I say. "I'm fine now," I say again, time me for myself. I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't, and wipe some of the blood from my ear.

"Whoo!" I hear, and we all turn to the corner to see Juliunna. When did she get here? I don't think I saw her in the dorm when I awoke, in fact… She hasn't been here for any of the fights like us. I'm sure of it. "Wow Tris, you kicked that troll!" Juliunna yelled, and then brought her hands together in a clapping ovation. I smiled as everyone else started clapping, minus Molly, Drew, and Peter. Peter and Drew were scowling at the floor angrily as Juliunna started jumping up and down like the cheerleaders back at school, clapping her hands and shouting loudly.

"Okay Barbie calm yourself." Four called over his shoulder at her, and Juliunna, unabashed, dropped her arms and strode over to Eric's side to whisper in his ear something.

I smiled to myself and looked at Molly's whimpering, submissive form on the floor.

I wonder what Juliunna's family would say if they could see her now.

…

Visiting Day. The second I open my eyes, I remember. My heart leaps and then plummets when I see Molly hobble across the dormitory, her nose purple between strips of medical tape. Once I see her leave, I check for Peter and Drew. Neither of them are in the dormitory, so I change quickly. As long as they aren't here, I don't care who sees me in my underwear, not anymore. Everyone else dresses in silence. Not even Christina smiles. We all know that we might go to the Pit floor and search every face and never find one that belongs to us. I make my bed with the tight corners like my father taught me. As I pinch a stray hair from my pillow, Eric walks in. "Attention!" he announces, flicking a lock of dark hair from his eyes. "I want to give you some advice about today. If by some miracle your families do come to visit you…" He scans our faces and smirks. "…which I doubt, it is best not to seem too attached. That will make it easier for you, and easier for them. We all so take the phrase 'faction before blood' very seriously here. Attachment to your family suggests you aren't entirely pleased with your faction, which would be shameful. Understand?" I understand. I hear the threat in Eric's sharp voice. The only part of that speech that Eric meant was the last part: We are Dauntless, and we need to act accordingly. On my way out of the dormitory, Eric stops me. "I may have underestimated you, Stiff," he says. "You did well yesterday." I stare up at him. For the first time since I beat Molly, guilt pinches my gut. If Eric thinks I did something right, I must have done it wrong. "Thank you," I say. I slip out of the dormitory. Once my eyes adjust to the dim hallway light, I see Christina and Will ahead of me, Will laughing, probably at a joke Christina made. I don't try to catch up. For some reason, I feel like it would be a mistake to interrupt them. Al is missing. I didn't see him in the dormitory, and he's not walking toward the Pit now.

Maybe he's already there. I run my fingers through my hair and smooth it into a bun. I check my clothes—am I covered up? My pants are tight and my collarbone is showing. They won't approve. Who cares if they approve? I set my jaw. This is my faction now. These are the clothes my faction wears. I stop just before the hallway ends. Clusters of families stand on the Pit floor, most of them Dauntless families with Dauntless initiates. They still look strange to me—a mother with a pierced eyebrow, a father with a tattooed arm, an initiate with purple hair, a wholesome family unit. I spot Drew and Molly standing alone at one end of the room and suppress a smile. At least their families didn't come.

But Peter's did. He stands next to a tall man with bushy eyebrows and a short, meek-looking woman with red hair. Neither of his parents looks like him. They both wear black pants and white shirts, typical Candor outfits, and his father speaks so loudly I can almost hear him from where I stand. Do they know what kind of person their son is? Then again…what kind of person am I? Across the room, Will stands with a woman in a blue dress. She doesn't look old enough to be his mother, but she has the same crease between her eyebrows as he does, and the same golden hair. He talked about having a sister once; maybe that's her. Next to him, Christina hugs a dark-skinned woman in Candor black and white. Standing behind Christina is a young girl, also a Candor. Her younger sister. Should I even bother scanning the crowd for my parents? I could turn around and go back to the dormitory.

Then I see her. My mother stands alone near the railing with her hands clasped in front of her. She has never looked more out of place, with her gray slacks and gray jacket buttoned at the throat, her hair in its simple twist and her face placid. I start toward her, tears jumping into my eyes. She came. She came for me.

I walk faster. She sees me, and for a second her expression is blank, like she doesn't know who I am. Then her eyes light up, and she opens her arms. She smells like soap and laundry detergent. "Beatrice," she whispers. She runs her hand over my hair. Don't cry , I tell myself. I hold her until I can blink the moisture from my eyes, and then pull back to look at her again. I smile with closed lips, just like she does. She touches my cheek. "Well, look at you," she says. "You've filled out." She puts her arm across my shoulders. "Tell me how you are."

"You first." The old habits are back. I should let her speak first. I shouldn't let the conversation stay focused on me for too long. I should make sure she doesn't need anything. "Today is a special occasion," she says. "I came to see you, so let's talk mostly about you. It is my gift to you." My selfless mother. She should not be giving me gifts, not after I left her and my father. I walk with her toward the railing that overlooks the chasm, glad to be close to her. The last week and a half has been more affectionless than I realized. At home we did not touch each other often, and the most I ever saw my parents do was hold hands at the dinner table, but it was more than this, more than here. "Just one question." I feel my pulse in my throat. "Where's Dad? Is he visiting Caleb?"

"Ah." She shakes her head. "Your father had to be at work." I look down. "You can tell me if he didn't want to come." Her eyes travel over my face. "Your father has been selfish lately. That doesn't mean he doesn't love you, I promise." I stare at her, stunned.

My father—selfish? More startling than the label is the fact that she assigned it to him. I can't tell by looking at her if she's angry. I don't expect to be able to. But she must be; if she calls him selfish, she must be angry. "What about Caleb?" Is he know about our father's selfishness? Know or even care that he won't be visiting us. "Will you visit him later?"

"I wish I could," she says, "but the Erudite have prohibited Abnegation visitors from entering their compound. If I tried, I would be removed from the premises." "What?" I demand.

"That's terrible. Why would they do that?"

"Tension between our factions are higher than ever," she says. "I wish it wasn't that way, but there is little I can do about it." I think of Caleb standing among the Erudite initiates, scanning the crowd for our mother, and feel a pang in my stomach.

Part of me is still angry with him for keeping so many secrets from me, but I don't want him to hurt. "That's terrible," I repeat. I look toward the chasm. Standing alone at the railing is Four. Though he's not an initiate anymore, most of the Dauntless use this day to come together with their families. Either his family doesn't like to come together, or he wasn't originally Dauntless. Which faction could he have come from? "There's one of my instructors." I lean closer to her and say, "He's kind of intimidating."

"He's handsome," she says. I find myself nodding without thinking. She laughs and lifts her arm from my shoulders. I want to steer her away from him, but just as I'm about to suggest that we go somewhere else, he looks over his shoulder.

His eyes widen at the sight of my mother. She offers him her hand. "Hello. My name is Edith," she says. "I'm Beatrice's mother." I have never seen my mother shake hands with someone. Four eases his hand into hers, looking stiff, and shakes it twice.

The gesture looks unnatural for both of them. No, Four was not originally Dauntless if he doesn't shake hands easily. "Four," he says.

"It's nice to meet you." "Four," my mother repeats, smiling. "Is that a nickname?"

"Yes." He doesn't elaborate. What is his real name? "Your daughter is doing well here. I've been overseeing her training." Since when does "overseeing" include throwing knives at me and scolding me at every opportunity?

"That's good to hear," she says. "I know a few things about Dauntless initiation, and I was worried about her." He looks at me, and his eyes move down my face, from nose to mouth to chin. Then he says, "You shouldn't worry." I can't keep the heat from rushing into my cheeks. I hope it isn't noticeable. Is he just reassuring her because she's my mother, or does he really believe that I am capable? And what did that look mean? She tilts her head. "You look familiar for some reason, Four."

"I can't imagine why," he replies, his voice suddenly cold. "I don't make a habit of associating with the Abnegation." My mother laughs. She has a light laugh, half air and half sound. "Few people do, these days. I don't take it personally."

He seems to relax a little. "Well, I'll leave you to your reunion." My mother and I watch him leave. The roar of the river fills my ears. Maybe Four was one of the Erudite, which explains why he hates Abnegation. Or maybe he believes the articles the Erudite release about us—them, I remind myself. But it was kind of him to tell her that I'm doing well when I know he doesn't believe it. "Is he always like that?" she says. "Worse."

"Have you made friends?" she asks. "A few," I say. I look over my shoulder at Will and Christina and their families. When Christina catches my eye, she beckons to me, smiling, so my mother and I cross the Pit floor. Before we can get to Will and Christina, though, a short, round woman with a black and-white-striped shirt touches my arm. I twitch, resisting the urge to smack her hand away. "Excuse me," she says. "Do you know my son? Albert?"

"Albert?" I repeat. "Oh—you mean Al? Yes, I know him."

"Do you know where we can find him?" she says, gesturing to a man behind her. He is tall and as thick as a boulder. Al's father, obviously. "I'm sorry, I didn't see him this morning. Maybe you should look for him up there?" I point at the glass ceiling above us. "Oh my," Al's mother says, fanning her face with her hand. "I would rather not attempt that climb again. I almost had a panic attack on the way down here. Why aren't there any railings along those paths? Are you all insane?" I smile a little. A few weeks ago I might have found that question offensive, but now I spend too much time with Candor transfers to be surprised by tactlessness. "Insane, no," I say. "Dauntless, yes. If I see him, I'll tell him you're looking for him." My mother, I see, wears the same smile I do. She isn't reacting the way some of the other transfers' parents are—her neck bent, looking around at the Pit walls, at the Pit ceiling, at the chasm. Of course she isn't curious—she's Abnegation. Curiosity is foreign to her. I introduce my mother to Will and Christina, and Christina introduces me to her mother and her sister.

But when Will introduces me to Cara, his older sister, she gives me the kind of look that would wither a plant and does not extend her hand for me to shake. She glares at my mother. "I can't believe that you associate with one of them, Will," she says. My mother purses her lips, but of course, doesn't say anything. "Cara," says Will, frowning, "There's no need to be rude."

"Oh, certainly not. Do you know what she is?" She points at my mother. "She's a council member's wife is what she is. She runs the 'volunteer agency' that supposedly helps the factionless. You think I don't know that you're just hoarding goods to distribute to your own faction while we don't get fresh food for a month, huh? Food for the factionless, my ass."

"I'm sorry," my mother says gently. "I believe you are mistaken."

"Mistaken. Ha," Cara snaps. "I'm sure you're exactly what you seem. A faction of happy-go-luck y do-gooders without a selfish bone in their bodies. Right."

"Don't speak to my mother that way," I say, my face hot. I clench my hands into fists. "Don't say another word to her or I swear I will break your nose."

"Back off, Tris," Will says. "You're not going to punch my sister."

"Oh?" I say, raising both eyebrows. "You think so?"

"No, you're not." Mother touches my shoulder. "Come on, Beatrice. We wouldn't want to bother your friend's sister." She sounds gentle, but her hand squeezes my arm so hard I almost cry out from the pain as she drags me away. She walks with me, fast, toward the dining hall. Just before she reaches it, though, she takes a sharp left turn and walks down one of the dark hallways I haven't explored yet. "Mom," I say. "Mom, how do you know where you're going?" She stops next to a locked door and stands on her tiptoes, peering at the base of the blue lamp hanging from the ceiling. A few seconds later she nods and turns to me again. "I said no questions about me. And I meant it. How are you really doing, Beatrice? How have the fights been? How are you ranked?"

"Ranked?" I say. "You know that I've been fighting? You know that I'm ranked?"

"It isn't top-secret information, how the Dauntless initiation process works." I don't know how easy it is to find out what another fact ion does during initiation, but I suspect it's not that easy. Slowly, I say, "I'm close to the bottom, Mom."

"Good." She nods. "No one looks too closely at the bottom. Now, this is very important, Beatrice: What were your aptitude test results?" Tori's warning pulses in my head. Don't tell anyone . I should tell her that my result was Abnegation, because that's what Tori recorded in the system. I look into my mother's eyes, which are pale green and framed by a dark smudge of eyelashes. She has lines around her mouth, but other than that, she doesn't look her age. Those lines get deeper when she hums. She used to hum as she washed the dishes. This is my mother. I can trust her.

"They were inconclusive," I say softly. "I thought as much." She sighs. "Many children who are raised Abnegation receive that kind of result. We don't k now why. But you have to be very careful during the next stage of initiation, Beatrice. Stay in the middle of the pack, no matter what you do. Don't draw attention to yourself. Do you understand?"

"Mom, what's going on?"

"I don't care what faction you chose," she says, touching her hands to my cheeks. "I am your mother and I want to keep you safe." "Is this because I'm a—" I start to say, but she presses her hand to my mouth.

"Don't say that word," she hisses. "Ever." So Tori was right. Divergent is a dangerous thing to be. I just don't know why, or even what it really means, still. "Why?" She shakes her head. "I can't say." She looks over her shoulder, where the light from the Pit floor is barely visible. I hear shouts and conversations, laughter and shuffling footsteps. The smell from the dining hall floats over my nose, sweet and yeast, baking bread. When she turns toward me, her jaw is set. "There's something I want you to do," she says. "I can't go visit your brother, but you can, when initiation is over. So I want you to go find him and tell him to research the simulation serum. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Not unless you explain some of this to me, Mom!" I cross my arms. "You want me to go hang out at the Erudite compound for the day, you had better give me a reason!"

"I can't. I'm sorry." She kisses my cheek and brushes a lock of hair that fell from my bun behind my ear. "I should leave. It will make you look better if you and I don't seem attached to each other."

"I don't care how I look to them," I say. "You should," she says. "I suspect they are already monitoring you." She walks away, and I am too stunned to follow her. At the end of the hallway she turns and says, "Have a piece of cake for me, all right? The chocolate. It's delicious." She smiles a strange, twisted smile, and adds, "I love you, you know." And then she's gone. I stand alone in the blue light coming from the lamp above me, and I understand: She has been to the compound before. She remembered this hallway. She knows about the initiation process.

My mother used to be a Dauntless.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

**My Pov**

Holding Christian's black tablet to my chest so I couldn't accidentally drop it, I jogged faster on our way to the park. Christian drove at a slow pace on his bike.

"No, dude I'm being serious." I said to Christian for the fourth time. He laughed at me. I couldn't help but smile nicely. Christian was a good friend of mine. We've known each other for about… Three years now. Our mom's were friends and he'd go over to my house, and vice versa. I've known him long before my best friend Madaija, or my other friends Taylor and Jerome, Nasir and Dylan, and Frank and Eli. Eli is a sixth grader, the youngest in our homeroom class. He transferred into it a few weeks ago, but he's also really popular. Christian was in our homeroom class for a few months at the beginning of the year, but he went into Mainstream. He still has the same lunch cycle as us, and he goes back to our class for fifteen minutes until his cycles, just like me.

"What?! You've got to go to class night. Everyone's going." Christian said, and I shrugged. "Not me-!"

"She's not going. She's too good to grace us all with her presence." Tyler said abruptly as he pushed pass me. I stumbled unnoticeably, but regained my feeting. Tyler scooted to Christian's side to talk to us.

"Yo, what's up dude?" Christian said, and they both bumped their fists together. "Nothing much. Could I borrow Jules for a second?" Tyler said to Christian, and Christian nodded. He walked a few steps and then turned around to face me. "Don't have too much fun Jules. See ya." Christian said, waving at me. And then he took off running down the smooth pavement street. Tyler turned to smirk at me.

"Having a date?"

"No, I'm meeting up with a group of friends at the park. Christian and I were walking together." I explained, gritting my teeth together. Tyler irks me.

"Whatever. So, when do we go back?" Tyler asked me, and I frowned and turned to him. The both of us stopped walking on the sidewalk to study each other. He was wearing a plain black leather jacket, with black skinny jeans. His hair was being tousled around in the wind, and I'm sure any girl's fingers would have itched to run through it.

Just not me of course.

I knew what I looked like. I wore a pair of blue jeans straight out of the dryer, a black t shirt, concealed by one of Christian's black hoodie I had borrowed. A pair of black and gold Jordan's, and my hair straightened and held high in a hair tie. Just an everyday Saturday look. But the way Tyler's eyes flashed, you would have thought that I decided to go play with the hose in my front yard with no clothes on.

"When do we go back? What do you mean?" I asked him, and started walking again. He smirked at me.

"To the dream world of course-!"

"I'm not bringing you anywhere. Learn it yourself." I snapped at him, and then started walking faster. He lightly jogged to catch up with me.

"But I can't. I figured it out. Your lifeless brain structure during sleep is a walkway for me, when I touch you during sleep. You're the only one I know who has this. As long as you go in, if I hold you while we sleep, I can go in there too-!"

"No!" I snapped at him. He frowned. "But why?"

"Because you are not going to hold me while I sleep. That's disgusting and I refuse!" I snapped back at him, and he reached out and gripped my wrist tight.

"But wait a minute Juliunna. Think about the scientific research." He said, and I frowned. "Heh." I said after a few seconds. The theoretic process was pretty interesting, but that's all it was. Theory.

"I want to help you. Let me help you find out what it is that your doing-!"

"Its Lucid Dreaming that's all it is." I said unconvincingly. He smirked at me, noticing my discomfort.

"I don't think that you think that this is what it is." He said, and I laughed.

"Your sentence sounded completely ridiculous." I laughed, making him smirk. "But it made you laugh and for that reason, I am okay with it. So… You never came over to my house yesterday." He said, and I frowned.

"Your not going to blackmail me again, are you?" I asked him. He smirked at me.

"But we didn't even start-!"

I jumped over the low red wooden fence, surrounding the miles of park. His mouth dropped open in shock as I gripped Christian's ipad in one hand, and then started sprinting down the down slope hill. He must have been thinking something big, because when I reached the kiddy playground and turned around at the slide ladder, he was still looking at me, open mouthed. I grinned at the little kid to my left, who was looking at me curiously.

"Do me a favor and hold this?" I asked, holding out the ipad to the small little boy, who nodded with a grin. "Sure." The second the tablet was in his hands Tyler leaped over the fence, and I took off running.

"I'll be back!" I screamed at the boy, who jumped back as Tyler went zooming pass him. I rounded the playground and started sprinting down the long concrete walk way.

The park was big and a very popular family outing space. It would be easier to explain with a picture then words, but even though it's a real park, I don't have a picture. Let's see where I should start. On the right of the park there are two giant baseball fields, no, three. The one closest to the street has actually bleachers. The other two look more like kick ball fields, but the only difference is that there is no bleachers. Dead center in the middle of the park is a playground complete with monkey bars, slides, those baby things you swing on back and forth. Blah, already bored with descriptions. So anyway I'm zooming down the concrete path near the baseball fields that lead into the woods and beyond.

"Wait up!" Tyler shouted, and I zoomed on ahead. "No! Leave me alone!" I shouted back at him, and I spotted my friends far up ahead. They were all crowded around the basketball courts, waiting for something. Probably me. I looked behind my shoulder to see Tyler, effortlessly gaining after me.

"Curse my tiny legs." I snapped at myself, and then reared off to the right, grabbing onto the skinny metal gate to the baseball court. It was more then twenty of my height times itself. Building height is what I'm talking about. "Bless my tiny feet." I sang aloud as I effortlessly climbed and maneuvered up the fence. Tyler slammed into it, glaring up at me as I started to reach the top.

"Yeah, as if I'm not just going to go around." He snorted, and I just had to smirk. The top of the fence looks bended backwards, like the real outpost. So I'll just lay on the top and take a sun tan until he leaves.

"Hahahaha!" I laughed aloud. He tried to climb the fence, but it was too small for him to climb. He glared at me when I started laughing.

"Heh, think your so smart?! Huh bitch?!" He asked me with a smirk, and I turned back around to face the baseball field. Got to reach the top to be alright. "Oh yeah. I'm smart. You can't even reach me-!" I screamed aloud when he threw a large rock, hitting the fence inches from my head. The fence groaned and flinched upon his rough treatment.

"Tyler!" I screamed, starting to hyperventilate. He grabbed a whole handful off the ground, gathering them into his burly arms. I moved faster, trying to reach the top. He threw another rock, and this one hit my hand. **"Ahhh!"** I screamed at the top of my lungs, feeling the pain. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my group of friends turning towards me, looking at us curiously.

"Your going to kill me!" I screamed at him, and he threw back his head in a laugh.

"I'll catch you." He said, and I stopped trying to climb. I was shaking too hard anyway, and my fingers were starting to clinch.

"Stop it!" I screamed as he threw a handful in one hand, all of them hitting my back. Okay, my friends were definitely running towards us. I looked back to see Tyler down to his last rock, but it was the biggest.

"Ahhh!" I screamed as he hurled it towards my head with all his might. I turned back to the field and curled in on myself. I can't move without falling at least a whole story to my death. I felt the rock hit my head roughly with a crack, and then I was falling, my fingers loosening from the gate as I fell through the sky. I heard screams around me, one of them were my own, but most of them came from my friends as I fell. Tyler lunged forward, looking caught off guard, but he halfway missed and accidentally hit me hard across the face as he grabbed me. I fell hard on my back.

"You-!" I gasped, trying to my find my breath. I thrashed around on the floor, trying to breath. "-! Jack ass!" I gasped hoarsely, and he leaned down worriedly.

"I-! I'm sorry. I didn't expect you to fall that soon-!"

"That rock weighed at least fourteen pounds!" I gasped. He frowned.

"I'm sorry, you just made me really mad-!"

"You almost killed me! My… My arm!" I screamed, looking at my left arm. It was twisted at an awkward angle. I tried to move it, but a stabbing pain filled my body, making me hiss. "You broke my arm!" I cried out as my friends surrounded me, looking at Tyler and I in shock.

"What the fuck dude?"! Christian snapped at him, and his foot swung forward hard, hitting Tyler in the side.

"OW!" Tyler snapped, and then the boys in the group were jumping on him, fists flying. Taylor leaned down and grabbed my other arm, supporting me as I tried to stand up.

"Are you okay? What the f happened? You were screaming and totally being abused by Tyler or something. Then he threw that rock at you and you fell? Why'd he try and kill you?!" Taylor asked me, and she pulled me back hard as Frank came falling out of the pile, laughing. He dove forward, and just like everyone else was fighting for a spot to kick him, punch him, and hurt Tyler at all costs.

"I don't know. Because I won't sleep with him or something. I ran from him and didn't wait for him. But look, my arm is totally broken!" I cried out, holding up my arm. I screeched when she gripped it tight, trying to examine it closer.

"Get em in the face!" We both screamed at Nasir started pounding Tyler with his fists. Tyler was big, but there were six boys in the group. Six against one wasn't fair, but it was definitely working for them. "Ohh! Kill em!" Taylor laughed, holding up my arm a little too hard, and I winced.

"Yeah! That's right! You run punk!" Eli yelled as Tyler shuffled to his feet, trying to run back.

"Oh hell nah! You mess with one of us you mess with all of us, you punk ass bitch. Let's get em!" Christian shouted, pumping his fist up in the air. With a roar of anger the six boys started barreling forward after Tyler, eager to kick ass. I laughed. The six boys barreled forward and jumped on Tyler. He immediately went tumbling into the concrete ground with a loud scream. Dylan, the smallest of the group, lifted his foot up and smashed it into Tyler's face. Blood poured out of his nose as Dylan smashed it in again. I wince painfully at the revengeful sight.

"A nose for a nose!" Dylan shouted at Tyler when he reached up to cradle it while trying to fight off the boys. I frowned. Slowly I reached up to touch my own while speaking.

"But my nose isn't broken-!" I frowned when I reached my nose. It felt lopsided, and when I pulled my hand away I felt blood.

"Err Jules… Should we get you to a hospital?" Taylor asked me, gesturing to my broken arm. I nodded.

"Yeah, might as well."

**…**

"This sucks." I snapped aloud to myself. I was in computer class trying to use edutyping, the warm up work for the beginning of class, and I couldn't type with one arm. Tyler edged a quick look at me, but didn't say anything and quickly turned back to his own screen when I refused to look at him. On my right, Monty, looked at Tyler concernedly.

"Dude, what happened?" He asked, and that was pretty much the question of the day for him. His face was bruised in various ratios, his nose was stitched up sloppily, he probably tried to do it himself. There was a highly recognized shoe print on his face, reddening up.

"Nothing." He muttered across me at Monty. No one at school ,except for the only friend who hadn't been to the park, Madaija, had asked me about my broken arm in a cast. My nose injury wasn't easily recognizable, I had a really good doctor you see. And while no one verbally spoke aloud my arm injury, they all had no problem whatsoever looking at it. Tyler cleared his throat rather loudly, trying to get me to look at him. But I bit my tongue and held my breath, trying to uncomfortably continue typing.

"You don't need to type you know." Tyler said under his breath. I sighed. "I do. I still have to do work." I said.

"No, Teacher said you don't have to remember?" He asked, and I gritted my teeth in thought. Next to my computer and Tyler's mouse was my netbook. (It's a small laptop supplied for me by the school during the school days) I don't really listen to Mr. Yutzy during the beginning of class. Yes I had my headphones on but I had definitely heard every word he had said with the music down low. Because when it gets quiet, you can hear a pin drop. And the sound is just willing to blare out of the headphones and I don't want anybody tapping on my shoulder asking me politely to turn it down.

It would be embarrassing, so I make sure to calm it down with the sound.

"Yep, he did…. I'm sorry Juliunna-!"

"Don't talk to me. I don't like you." I said, and then put my pair of headphones on my ears, and pressed the play button. He leaned over.

"I… I really am sorry. I, a had a bad nightmare last night because I thought you wouldn't be okay. But you are, but my stomach feels really weird now." He said quickly, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. I frowned.

"Yeah, okay. But saying sorry isn't going to fix my broken arm." I snapped at him quietly. He frowned. I looked back to the big computer screen as he turned around, shuffling in his book bag.

"It better not be an 'I'm sorry' gift Tyler-!"

He swirled back around and placed the book directly in front of me. I looked down at it.

"My purple notebook… What do you want now Tyler-!"

"Keep it. Just keep it. I don't need it. You do." He said, and then turned back to his screen. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and could have sworn that he was fighting back tears. It was surprisingly heart breaking and tugging on my emotions. Guys like him shouldn't cry. He's too strong willed and cocky, mean and wild to cry. I don't see him as a human being sometimes. I forget he's got emotions sometimes too.

I felt like crying myself when I saw a stray tear slide down his left cheek. My fingers flinched, and I felt a selfless need inside me to help him. Slowly, I raised my hand. He kept his eyes on the screen as I leaned out, and then pressed my palm onto his arm. He stiffened, and I could see his long eyelashes blinking quickly, trying to keep the tears in and stop them. He stopped typing for a moment, and then turned to look at me. I didn't change my emotionless expression, but he showed signs of shock. But then he pursed his lips, nodded at me, and then turned back to the screen. I took my hand off him with a smile.

The Tyler I knew would have smirked at me, accuse me of being in love with him, and then try to rape my mouth with his tongue for as long as he could get away with it. I didn't like that Tyler at all. But this Tyler was alright with me. I didn't turn back to my screen for a few seconds, instead tried to study him.

His posture was no longer uptight and cocky. He was all slouched and nervous looking. He stared at the screen, but his lips were shaking. Was me being in pain hurting him? Or judging by his normal levels of strength of his infatuation, it was more likely the fact that he knew he had caused my pain, and hurting me therefore hurts him emotional, wrecking him.

Behind me, I could see a girl in my class, Melissa, staring at me in envy. I shrugged off her icy glare. It was only common knowledge of the girls in my school that I was the envy of their eye. Why? Well word spread quickly between most of the population of this school that Tyler is 'in love' with me, as they put it. I made up a mental bathroom schedule so that I could avoid the girls in the bathroom. During lunch, and directly after science ins the best times to use the bathroom. No girls in there at all. Their jealousy usually includes tripping, glares, hushed whispers about me with their friends, but lately, ever since I've been put in Mainstream Gym, Math, and Science, I've been practically invisible to most of my out of homeroom classmates. But despite all the crap Tyler has put me through, I can't help but smile at him.

"You're a good kid, deep down Tyler." I whispered his way, and instead of a smirk, he gave me a small shrug and a sad smile.

** …**

"Let's go." Eric clapped loudly in front of me, and I blinked my eyes to clear them. I had just fallen asleep at my desk at home, when I was suddenly standing in the Dauntless Training room.

"Come on, your fighting Drew today." Eric said loudly, and everyone looked at me curiously, wondering why I was still standing in place. Wait… I'm fighting Drew?! I thought to myself. I have no time to prepare. Drew is twice my size, and is as wide as a boulder. Oh my.

While thinking, I forgot that Eric was waiting for me to move, so it came as a surprise when he grabbed the front of my shirt in a tight fist, and then dragged me forward. I stumbled after him. He was obviously not in a good mood. He threw me forward and I fell onto my stomach inside the ring. "Ow." I snapped, and then propped myself up straight. When I was ready, Eric turned to the rest of the initiates, staring at me and him in shock.

"Fight. Now." Eric snapped, and Drew smirked at me from his place at the end of the ring. No! I need time. I'm tiny and I need to rely on my brain to win, not my strengths. I already let it slip with Peter that I can take someone down fast enough with the given amount of time. But if I can't get the information I need…

I'm toast.

Drew didn't waste as much time. He launched forward and I ran around the other side of the arena, trying to think. "Whooo! Get it Drew!" Molly shouted, and Peter started clapping like I had, when Tris had beat up Molly. "Yay!" He cheered when Drew started to gain on me. I got cold feet, got scared, and then slipped on the floor, stomach first painlessly. Drew tripped over my body at my abruptly falling, and hit the ground hard on his stomach. I got on my feet quick with a grin. "No!" Peter cried out as I jumped and landed on Drew's back, pinning him to the ground and started hitting his back.

"Okay," I said aloud, "This is not going to work." I said, and then rolled off him, intending to wait for him to get up. Sadly, Drew had a plan and swept his arm under my ankles, making me fly back and hit the floor.

"Ah!" I screamed as he jumped up, and then climbed back onto my feet. Oh no. I'm going to lose. He's too huge and practiced. I hate lack of confidence.

His arm twitches and pain stabs my jaw and spreads across my face, making my vision go black at the edges and my ears ring. I blink and lurch to the side as the room dips and sways. I don't remember his fist coming at me. I am too off-balance to do anything but move away from him, as far as the arena will allow. He darts in front of me and kicks me hard in the stomach. His foot forces the air from my lungs and it hurts, hurts so badly I can't breathe, or maybe that's because of the kick, I don't know, I just fall.

On your feet is the only thought in my mind. I push myself up, but Drew is already there. He grabs my hair with one hand and punches me in the nose with the other. This pain is different, less like a stab and more like a crackle, crackling in my brain, spotting my vision with different colors, blue, green, red. I try to shove him off, my hands slapping at his arms, and he punches me again, this time in the ribs. My face is wet. Bloody nose. More red, I guess, but I'm too dizzy to look down.

He shoves me and I fall again, scraping my hands on the ground, blinking, sluggish and slow and hot. I cough and drag myself to my feet. I really should be lying down if the room is spinning this fast. And Drew spins around me; I am the center of a spinning planet, the only thing staying still. Some thing hits me from the side and I almost fall over again.

On my feet on my feet. I see a solid mass in front of me, a body. I punch as hard as I can, and my fist hits something soft. Drew barely groans, and smacks my ear with the flat of his palm, laughing under his breath. I hear ringing and try to blink some of the black patches out of my eyes; how did something get in my eye?

Think.

Think.

Think while you back pedal backwards, trying to escape Drew's propelling fists. Oh my…

When he is just inches away from me, I stare into his eyes. This is my world. This book and plot may not belong to me legally, but this is my mind.

And that means that I can manipulate my surroundings.

I lift my fist back and let it fly hard into Drew's face. Everyone screamed. Instead of Drew flinching or even falling, he flew fifthy feet back into a column, and slammed into it hard. He slid to the bottom, unconscious. I lifted both hands into the air and jumped up and down with a squeal.

"I win! I win! I W-I-N win!" I cheered, jumping up and down on my spot. Everyone turned to me, shocked out of their minds. "Oh… Oh my god." Tris gasped, and everyone started looking between Drew's unconscious body and me, jumping up and down and singing.

"Aha I won. I won. I won.-!"

"How the heck did you do that?!" Will asked with a shaky voice, and I shrugged.

"I thought it, and therefore it came true." I shrugged, and skipped on pass Eric, who was frozen in some kind of fear mode, and I strolled into the hall, a smile on my face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Reviews. Reviews. These are what keep me updating. I have such lovely reviewers on this profile! Keep up the good work! Something about seeing those reviews inspire me to write more. **** D: **

**Love,**

**ButterflyBillarius.**

Chapter 9:

**Normal Pov**

My arm slung in a sling, I looked at the wall in lunch class sadly. I was mourning about the death of a love one. I have never met him. I have heard of him for three days now. We have lived thousands of miles away. He has had the so called 'perfect life', according to the news castors on the news. But the phrase from the great book, the outsiders, _'Things are hard all over'_, rang around in my mind. I saw his picture on the news, heard his voice in the youtube videos he posted. Especially his final, and his screenshot makes him look the best on that video. He was handsome. He was rich. Good friends. A mental disease that at least made him look sane. I wouldn't have known he was mentally insane if it wasn't on the police report. Who wouldn't fall for him?

Elliot Rodgers.

The first day I found out about him and what he had done, hope surged though me. There was tuggings on my heart when I thought about him. And I couldn't get his story out of my head. It was like I had found my soul mate. I was sure it was him. And the next day, I planned to go to school the next day and search what prison he was in, so I could visit him in four years. No woman wanted him, but I did! My heart stretched hopefully at the hope that I could send him letters and fall in love with him through that, and then when I was older enough I could break him out of prison and we could get married! But on the third day, today, in Math class, I looked up his report on another sight, and found a piece of left out information on the other sight. He had shot himself in his car, and the police had found him like that after all the killings. He's dead!

I don't know why I'm so disappointed. I never met him, yes I've known of him for three days but still. I can't help but feel as if when he died, he took a piece of my heart with him. I'm fighting off tears as I think about this!

"Jules!" Taylor shouted, and then threw a fry at me. "Stop daydreaming about the murderer. That's sick-!"

"I'm mourning!" I shouted at her, and then turned back to the wall to think.

"What's she doing?" Nick said, sitting down next to Jerome. I clenched my good fist tight. There were two Nick's in my school in the eight grade as far as I knew. A nice, smart enough Nick in Math class whose funny. And one of Tyler's hot monkey friends Nick. Well the monkey just reached out with a red sharpie without my permission.

"Hey!" I snapped, but he grabbed my wrist tightly and held it in place as he started to write. "Hold on Jules, just hold still-!"

"Juliunna let him sign your cast!" Taylor snapped, and then held down my arm. So with a sigh, I let him scribble on it, and then turned to watch the table all the way on the right side of the room. Tyler looked over at me, and then stood up.

"Uh oh." I said as he started sauntering over to us, and Jerome looked up with raised eyebrows.

"Code Douche Bag!" He yelled out, and everyone that's in my home room jumped up and ran to our table, smirks on their faces. Yes, so I'm guessing the boys had this scenario all planned out before hand.

"What's that?" I asked, and all the boys surrounded me and the table. Tyler put his hands up in surrender as he got closer. I smirked.

There was Christian, Dylan, Danny, Eli, Nasir, and surprisingly Austin, though he was not in my home room at all. All of their ages varying from 12-14. And Tyler was 17 about to go on eighteen. But judging by the way he 'casually' scratched his nose when he got close, he was still thinking about that broken nose thing.

"Just in case he tries to come near any of us again. Like I said, you attack one of us, you attack all of us." Christian said, and the boys started high fiving each other. I grinned as Tyler stopped in front of all of us, his hands outstretched.

"Hi guys." He said with a wide and kind smile. Christina snorted and raised his fists as he shrugged.

"What do you want?" I asked nicely, tilting my head to the side and letting my hair fan over my shoulder. Behind me, Nick leaned forward to touch my hair, which I presumed to push him away quickly.

"I just want to talk to you. I promise." He said, taking a deep breath as he looked to me. I stared into his dark, cerulean blue eyes, and nodded. "Alright, take a seat." The second Tyler took a seat next to Nick, all my friends roughly slammed into the table. There weren't enough seats, so the ones without seats sat on their knees. They sent Tyler chilly death glares, and the whole table was quiet so that they could see and hear everything he did.

"So… Can I sign your cast?" He asked with a smile, and Dylan slammed his fist on the table. "Well why not, seeing as if you're the one who broke her arm in the first place-!"

"Dylan calm it." I snapped, and Nick handed Tyler the pen. All the boys leaned in closed to Tyler as he leaned in to cradle my arm. Christian's head was right on top of him, Dylan and Eli both had their heads on his shoulder, and Taylor laughed at the hilarity of the situation.

"You guys look funny." She snorted as Tyler took my hand, sending the usual chills up my arm, but I feel as if I could stand this chills. Better then the usual feeling of disgust I get when he touches me, at least.

"Wait a minute… Nick!" Tyler snapped, and then turned to Nick, who grinned sheepishly.

"Yo dog why'd you right your phone number? Jules don't want to call you." Nasir said with a laugh, and Nick smirked. "Just in case she changes her mind about class night." Nick shrugged. Tyler leaned forward again and started writing.

"Dude, your going with Jessica already." He laughed as he started to make little drawings or whatever on my cast.

"It can all be changed with a few words." Nick laughed, and I rolled my eyes with disgust.

"Yeah, of course it can." Jerome said sarcastically to Nick, who just smirked.

"So, did you hear about the new eclipse coming up-!" Tyler whispered, trying to start a conversation with me, but Christian slammed his fist on the table hard.

"Speak up!" Eli snapped, and I laughed. "Guys let him speak. And yes I did hear about the new eclipse. And I don't think they want you at this table right now Tyler." I said with a small chuckle, and everyone nodded at him.

"Oh." Tyler said with a shrug, and then looked over my shoulder at someone. He jetted his neck up at them in reference, but I didn't want to know who it was in the slightest. "Well I guess I'll see you later Juliunna-!"

"Yeah you guess that." Danny said, crossing his arms. I rolled my eyes. Tyler ignored them but gave me a soft wink as he turned to walk away. I didn't stare at his back as he walked away, as any other girl would, but instantly turned back to my tray of food.

"Heh… Well that's pretty much a different change of character for him." Taylor said, as all the boys that weren't at our table before started walking away, chortling something like 'Code blue, drill is over, drill is over'. I rolled my eyes at them, but I couldn't help but laugh at them too. We were like a family in this school, me and my homeroom students of course.

"Yeah, I think he's trying to show you that he's a changed man." Taylor said to me, reaching across the table to grab a fry off my lunch tray. I shrugged.

"Yeah, but I don't think I really care." I shrugged, and then took the apple juice cup off of my tray and gingerly laid it to the side.

"You know, usually I would disagree with you. I thought he was the perfect package. Smart, funny, sexy, a good singer and dancer-!"

"How do you know that?!" I snapped with a grin on my face at Taylor, who shrugged. "Well he was in the Talent Show this year. And last year. And apparently from what I've heard every year. Too bad your in eight grade and have to go to High School next year, you could have tried out." Taylor said with a mischevious grin, and again I shrugged.

"Heh, didn't know that about him." I said. And Madaija leaned forward with a grin. "Yeah, he was the perfect package. Until he turned out to be an abusive loser with an IQ of a worm." She said, and her and Taylor started laughing. "Yeah. Sure he isn't handicapped temporarily, but at least he has those poorly done stitches on his face to remind him of what he did." Taylor said with a laugh. And I looked towards him.

"Really, huh. I thought that they weren't really noticeable." I said with a laugh. I studied his face, and upon remembering what I had currently been thinking about, turned around to look at the wall.

"Oh Elliot." I sighed dreamily, and felt a sudden stab in my heart. I feel like a piece of me is missing. Taylor reached out and waved a Twix bar under my nose, her hand moving slowly. "Jules, if you be quiet and stop moaning about the boy who murdered 3 or thirteen people, you can have this Twix bar." She said with a smirk, and I squealed.

"Deal." I said excitedly, and as our guardian teacher waved their hand, we all stood up to leave. (Some of the teachers take shifts watching the children inside the Cafeteria. The cafeteria is huge, so one patrols the middle cafeteria, one patrols the right side, and one patrols the left side, all the way in the back by the windows. My side!)

"School work." I sang in Mica's ear as I passed him. He had been lazily drifting his head on the cover of his math book, about to fall asleep. Heh, I'm going to fall asleep in class, but I'd only have fifteen minutes of reality time. And who knows how long of dream time.

Heh, I sure that there is some kind of formula, but most of the time it feels pretty random. Soon I think I'll try and find out. "Jules, Jules, come here!" A girl up ahead yelled. She was standing in the doorway of the dream up ahead at the end of the hall. Not here! I moaned inside my head. Her name was Jessica White. Long brown hair, plump and chubby lips. She knows I don't like her, and the feeling is definitely mutual. Yet the way she strode forward, the world's biggest smile on her face, made it look like we were friends.

"Hey Juliunna-!"

"Don't talk to me, we are not friends." I snapped, putting my hand up to put a blocking wall between her and my face. Madaija raised two eyebrows and seemed to be fighting off a chuckle as we all walked side by side together.

"Juliunna. You are never going to believe what happened!" Jessica squealed, and then to my sudden flare of anger, she put an arm around my shoulders to keep me in place.

"Grr. What do you want Jessica?" I snapped at her, and the both of us leaned against the wall. As Mrs. Carr passed us, Jessica had the biggest smile on her face, but when the teacher rounded the corner, Jessica's smile dropped to a cocky sneer. I turned just in time to see Madaija turn around the corner. Dang it. I don't like being left alone with this female monkey.

"What do you want Jessica?" I asked, and she reached out and dropped a yellow piece of paper into my hand. I raised it higher to read it. It's a-!

"Why do I get a get out of gym class for free pass?" I asked with a squeal, forgetting my anger for the moment. Jessica scowled.

"Tyler got his dad, who owns the Board of Buena Education, to fix it up. I suppose he's trying to butter you up enough to get into your pants. So you know what I want you to do? He asked me to deliver this to you. Your going to tell him that you don't want him, and that I am free." Jessica said with a smirk. I stared at her.

…

…

…

And then walked away. I don't like her, and I'm not going to set her up for a booty call. So I think I'm just going to go back to class and surf the web. I like Pottermore, and I enjoy the sit and seek I spy game you play when your own the site. When I rounded the corner, I smashed into a large body of muscle again. Not him, not him, not him, Oh. I looked up into the eyes of Trent Patrick. Trent was in my science class, and while smaller then Tyler, he was at least five foot eight. He surely towers over me, and there was a well known reputation of Trent's of how he was the biggest person in the school. He was nice, and I'm pretty sure Tahir is his best friend. Ninety nine percent of course. Now, Tahir.

Tahir and my eyes meet, and I nod. He nods back to me. Tahir and I have a bit of history together. We go back to elementary school. Well, we didn't official meet and become part of a first name basics until fifth grade, when I was first put into self contained classes. After a week or two, Tahir and I started to become close friends. Along with his then best friend, Keanu Cardona, and on and off again friends Jessica Davis and Shielli Sanchez. Anyway, in sixth grade, our first year of middle school, Tahir became my second boyfriend. Now don't go thinking that it was some kind of romantic they were friends now their in a relationship crap. Because Tahir and I were being stupid at age 12. I thought it would be cool to admit that I like porn, and then he said he liked it too. And then he said that we both had that in common and so we should get together. I turned him down once. But the next time I felt daring and couldn't say no. So I told him yes.

But I'm not exactly been girlfriend material, and I didn't like the appeal of a relationship, or being in one. I was afraid, and I remembered that there was a lot of heart beating. I remember Tahir kept trying to do couple stuff, and I didn't like to talk of our relationship, and tried to keep it friendship only. I mean, we couldn't kiss, and we couldn't hug or hold hands. What did he expect me to do? Oh, and when I take my Adderall, the prescription medicine, it 'hurts' to talk. Meaning it is depressing to talk and it takes a tough effort when I'm on it to talk, at least back in sixth grade. Now its easier. I don' t remember feeling sad when Tahir told Keanu to break up with me for him. I remember first feeling shock, because I had just decided I was going to be a good girlfriend and kiss him in the corner, but a second later I realized I didn't care. Because I liked him better as a friend and I wasn't ready for a relationship.

"Sorry Juliunna. Where are you going?" Trent asked, crossing his arms, and I smirked. "Back to class. What about you?" I asked with a tip of my chin, and started walking down the hall.

"Off to Art class. See you later." He called with a small smile, and I couldn't help but smirk. I liked those two. They were nice guys. When I went into homeroom, Nasir grabbed my wrist tight and pulled me into the classroom quickly. "Jules, Danny won't give me my headphones back. Look!" He snapped, and pointed to Danny lounging in a bean bag chair in a makeshift corner blocked in by two side by side low book shelved. Danny had one netbook on his lap, and a pair of Logitech headphones in his hands. He glared at Nasir heatedly.

"These are my headphones-!"

"No, these are my headphones-!"

"Actually there my headphones!" I snapped. I leaned forward and ripped the headphones out of Danny's hands. He pouted. "Man… Jules can I borrow your headphones?" Danny asked with a sad doggy faced smile. I stared at him for a few seconds, but realized besides my nice Abnegation qualities, showing him niceness would be a weakness quality when he's done a bad thing. Taking my headphones without my permission.

If he had been anyone outside my homeroom class, room 106, I would have made him pay. But we're family in here, and I know how to control myself in here. "Dan, just remember to ask next time, okay dude?" I asked nicely, and Nasir smiled when I took the headphones back to my spot over at the computer table.

"Juliunna." Madaija started, keeping her eyes on her small netbook screen. I sat down next to her.

"Yeah?" I asked, and she slid a piece of paper out of her pocket and across the desk, towards me. "What's this…" I asked, opening the paper.

_The reason I got you out of Gym is so that you can do this with me. Meet me at 11: 30 in,_

It was very easy to see that he had written and erased the next lane multiple times, trying to pick a good spot for us to meet obviously.

_In the Auditorium. Use the entrance by the Main Hall. Bring the book. –Tyler._

"Wow." I said. And Madaija leaned closer so that she could whisper. "Your not going to go, right?" Madaija asked me, and I shrugged. I looked over to the wall and thought for a while. "Yep, I'm going."

"What?!" She squealed semi loud, causing Taylor and Jerome to look our way in the corner. "What are you fools doing over their?" Taylor asked, talking to Madaija alone. I could tell by the way Taylor's eyes glowered at Madaija, a smirk creeping onto her face. Madaija snarled.

"Freaking blondie. Idiot." She muttered under her breath, and Taylor flashed me a quick smile. I nodded back, not wanting to get in between the two of them. I laid my head down on my desk and decided to relax for a few minutes.

**…**

Ah! I opened my eyes and I was suddenly lieing on my back on some kind of roller hospital bed. My arms and legs and forehead were being constricted to the flat bed. What the… But I didn't even fall asleep with the book! How am I even here?

**One minute Ago**

After fifteen minutes of Juliunna sleeping, Madaija looked up from her computer at Jules. She had her head and chest sprawled across the table, her chest lifting slightly each time she breathed. Madaija shook her head as she thought. _Heh, she's always sleeping on that book, maybe that's actually really comfortable for her._ Madaija spotted the Diveregent book by Juliunna's computer and lifted Juliunna's head with one hand. Slowly Madaija pushed the book under Juliunna's head, and let her sleep.

** Back to Julie Pov**

I struggle against the constraints around me, and try to study the room around me. It was dark and dim in here, nothing but shadows in the light. I think I was in a hospital bed or-! Oh no. An examination room.

"Hello?!" I screamed aloud. There was a loud bang outside, and the sound of feet shuffling against the floor. "Am I under arrest?" I yelled. Oh no. Blowing Drew away with that fist punch was the last straw. Now their going to use me as their test monkey, trying to figure out every aspect of my physical being. Trying to find out what makes me tick, and what part of me has the super power their expecting me to have.

But I don't have super powers. Just brain power to the maximum!

The two double doors opened, and two scientists shuffled in, with experiment safety goggles on the top of their head and clipboards in their hands. They were both plain women, both to be at least twenty eight. They looked at me through their thin glass skepticals, and gave me a nice, wide smile. "Hello. Name please." The one on the right side said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Juliunna." I said, and the one on the left started writing down the information. "How old are you?" She asked. I sighed.

"Fourteen." I said immediently, and the both of them raised an eyebrow. Oops. "I mean sixteen." I corrected myself quickly, and the one on the left frowned. "But… you know what missy, this is a business room. I don't care if your trying to trick us, but you really shouldn't. Your already on thin ice little girl." The one of the left said with a wide smirk. I froze angrily.

"Now, we and the scientists and doctors here at Erudite Hospital want to conduct a few physical and mental tests. It'll take about a week if you are content with working with us. Will you try sweetie?" The one on the right said. I nodded, and when they looked away rolled my eyes.

"What happens if I don't want to cooperate?" I asked lazily, and both of the women smirked to each other.

"We force you." They said, and then exited the room, both giggling mischeviously to each other. I roll my eyes at them heatedly.

** Beatrice/Tris Pov**

At dinner I sit with Christina, Will, and All at a table in the corner. We are uncomfortably close to Peter, Drew, and Molly, who are at the next table over. When conversation at our table reaches a lull, I hear every word they say. They are speculating about the ranks. What a surprise. "You weren't allowed to have pets?" Christina demands, smacking the table with her palm. "Why not?" "Because they're illogical," Will says matter-of-factly.

"What is the point in providing food and shelter for an animal that just soils your furniture, makes your home smell bad, and ultimately dies?" Al and I meet eyes, like we usually do when Will and Christina start to fight. But this time, the second our eyes meet, we both look away. I hope this awkwardness between us doesn't last long. I want my friend back. "The point is…" Christina's voice trails off, and she tilts her head. "Well, they're fun to have. I had a bull dog named Chunker. One time we left a whole roasted chicken on the counter to cool, and while my mother went to the bathroom, he pulled it down off the counter and ate it, bones and skin and all. We laughed so hard."

"Yes, that certainly changes my mind. Of course I want to live with an animal that eats all my food and destroys my kitchen." Will shakes his head. "Why don't you just get a dog after initiation if you're feeling that nostalgic?"

"Because." Christina's smile falls, and she pokes at her potato with her fork. "Dogs are sort of ruined for me. After…you know, after the aptitude test." We exchange looks. We all know that we aren't supposed to talk about the test, not even now that we have chosen, but for them that rule must not be as serious as it is for me. My heart jumps unsteadily in my chest. For me that rule is protection. It keeps me from having to lie to my friends about my result s. Every time I think the word "Divergent," I hear Tori's warning—and now my mother's warning too. Don't tell anyone. Dangerous.

"You mean…killing the dog, right?" asks Will. I almost forgot. Those with an aptitude for Dauntless picked up the knife in the simulation and stabbed the dog when it attacked. No wonder Christina doesn't want a pet dog anymore. I tug my sleeves over my wrists and twist my fingers together. "Yeah," she says. "I mean, you guys all had to do that too, right?" She looks first at Al, and then at me. Her dark eyes narrow, and she says, "You didn't."

"Hmm?" I said.

"You're hiding something," she says. "You're fidgeting Candor," says Al, nudging me with his shoulder. There. That feels normal. "We learn to read body language so we know when someone is lying or keeping something from us."

"Oh." I scratch the back of my neck. "Well…"

"See, there it is again!" she says, noting at my hand. I feel like I'm swallowing my heartbeat. How can I lie about my results if they can tell when I'm lying? I'll have to control my body language. I drop my hand and clasp my hands in my lap. Is that what an honest person does? I don't have to lie about the dog, at least. "No, I didn't kill the dog."

"How did you get Dauntless without using the knife?" says Will, narrowing his eyes at me. I look him in the eye and say evenly, "I didn't. I got Abnegation." It is half-true. Tori reported my result as Abnegation, so that is what is in the system. Anyone who has access to the scores would be able to see it. I keep my eyes on his for a few seconds.

Shifting them away might be suspicious. Then I shrug and stab a piece of meat with my fork. I hope they believe me. They have to believe me. "But you chose Dauntless anyway?" Christina says. "Why?"

"I told you," I say, smirking. "It was the food." She laughs. "Did you guys know that Tris had never seen a hamburger before she came here?" She launches into the story of our first day, and my body relaxes, but I still feel heavy. I should not lie to my friends. It creates barriers between us, and we already have more than I want. Christina taking the flag. Me rejecting Al. After dinner we go back to the dormitory, and it's hard for me not to sprint, knowing that the rankings will be up when I get there. I want to get it over with. At the door to the dormitory, Drew shoves me into the wall to get past me. I keep walking, but my eyes shift around the room.

"Juliunna?" I call out. No one turns to me, and I don't see Juliunna around anywhere. Now that I think about it, I didn't see Juliunna all day today.

I wonder where she is right now.

My shoulder scrapes on the stone, as I keep walking in the room, pushing pass the crowd of initiates to get in. I'm too short to see over the crowd of initiates standing near the back of the room, but when I find a space between heads to look through, I see that the blackboard is on the ground, leaning against Four's legs, facing away from us. He stands with a piece of chalk in one hand. "For those of you who just came in, I'm explaining how the ranks are determined," he says. "After the first round of fights, we ranked you according to your skill level. The number of points you earn depends on your skill level and the skill level of the person you beat. You earn more points for improving and more points for beating someone of a high skill level. I don't reward preying on the weak. That is cowardice." I think his eyes linger on Peter at that last line, but they move on quickly enough that I'm not sure. "If you have a high rank, you lose points for losing to a low-ranked opponent."

Molly lets out an unpleasant noise, like a snort or a grumble. "Stage two of training is weighted more heavily than stage one, because it is more closely tied to overcoming cowardice," he says. "That said, it is extremely difficult to rank high a t the end of initiation if you rank low in stage one." I shift from one foot to the other, trying to get a good look at him. When I finally do, I look away. His eyes are already on me, probably drawn by my nervous movement. "We will announce the cuts tomorrow," Four says. "The fact that you are transfers and the Dauntless-born initiates are, will not be taken into consideration. Four of you could be factionless and none of them. Or four of them could be factionless and none of you. Or any combination thereof. That said, here are your ranks." He hangs the board on the hook and steps back so we can see the rankings: 1. Edward 2. Peter 3. Juliunna 4. Will 5. Christina 6. Tris Sixth? 7 Molly. I can't be sixth. Beating Molly must have boosted my rank more than I thought it would. And losing to me seems to have lowered hers. I skip to the bottom of the list. 7. Drew 8. Al 9. Myra Al isn't dead last, but unless the Dauntless-born initiates completely failed their version of stage one of initiation, he is factionless.

I glance at Christina. She tilts her head and frowns at the board. She isn't the only one. The quiet in the room is uneasy, like it is rocking back and forth on a ledge. Then it falls. "What?" demands Molly. She points at Christina. "I beat her! I beat her in minutes, and she's ranked above me?" "Yeah," says Christina, crossing her arms. She wears a smug smile. "And?" "If you intend to secure yourself a high rank, I suggest you don't make a habit of losing to low-ranked opponents," says Four, his voice cutting through the mutters and grumbles of the other initiates. He pockets the chalk and walks past me without glancing in my direction. The words sting a little, reminding me that I am the low-ranked opponent he's referring to. Apparently they remind Molly, too.

"You," she says, focusing her narrowed eyes on me. "You are going to pay for this stiff." I expect her to lunge at me, or hit me, but she just turns on her heel and stalks out of the dormitory, and that is worse. If she had exploded, her anger would have been spent quickly, after a punch or two. Leaving means she wants to plan something. Leaving means I have to be on my guard. Peter didn't say anything at all when the rankings went up, which, given his tendency to complain about anything that doesn't go his way, is surprising. He just walks to his bunk and sits down, untying his shoelaces. That makes me feel even more uneasy. He can't possibly be satisfied with second place. Not Peter. Will and Christina slap hands, and then Will claps me on the back with a hand bigger than my shoulder blade. "Look at you. Number six," he says, grinning. "Still might not have been good enough," I remind him. "It will be, don't worry," he says. "We should celebrate."

"Well, let's go, then," says Christina, grabbing my arm with one hand and Al's arm with the other. "Come on, Al. You don't know how the Dauntless-borns did. You don't know anything for sure." "I'm just going to go to bed," he mumbles sadly, pulling his arm free. In the hallway, it is easy to forget about All and Molly's revenge and Peter's suspicious calm, and easy to pretend that what separates us as friends does not exist. But lingering at the back of my mind is the fact that Christina and Will are my competitors. If I want to fight my way to the top ten, I will have to beat them first. I just hope I don't have to betray them in the process.

"Christina, have you seen Jules? She'd probably want to hear the good news of how she's third place." I said tiredly, **(A/N: And somewhere in realty the author cringed at the thought of being**_** third**_** place.)**

"No, no idea." Christina said. "Well, maybe she'll show up." Christina said. And I nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, maybe she will."

"And if not, we can always check the chasm later on." Will joked. I frowned..


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

**Juliunna/My Pov**

I stand quietly, so quiet I can feel my heart beating in my chest. Yesterday, there was a new kid arrival at my school, and I think I'm in love. Again.

Okay so I'm a hormonal and needy teenage girl who is suddenly interested in boys (or men). Whatever.

But still. This kid is totally in my range. He's not dead, and as far as I can tell he has a lot of my interests. I'll explain this to you, because not only do I think I'm in love, but he makes my heart beat faster then Elliot did. My two gym teachers decided to bring the gym class outside for today, and I'm standing behind the column near the two double doors. Ahead of me, across the very close to me street and spread out along the grassy plain was my class. I was standing in the shade. I'm not doing gym today.

The new kid is sitting on the curb of the street, his body facing me. His eyes are planted on his finger nails, which he's tracing and covering with some pretty marker-like, nail polish brush. He's gothic, I guess. His hair is a wet black color, as if he had dipped his hair in wet black paint previous to coming to school. His skin is a little tanner then mine. He has beautiful eyes, outlined with black eyeliner. He's wearing black jeans and a black shirt with some kind of bloody band logo on the back of his shirt. His sneakers are black, and they have pretty shiny metal clips on the sides of them. He's got his little black notebook propped up on the top of his knees as he writes in it.

The best part is that while he's handsome, everyone at this school thinks he's weird, so they ignore him, except for the bullies, which sadly I've heard groups of the older boys talking rude things about him in the hall. But as I was saying, the good thing is that no one likes him, which makes me free to make my move.

Okay, that sounded oober selfish. But still, I have a problem. I'm not used to this kind of romantic, gushy thing. I didn't even care about romance in reality. I'm only in middle school! What is it that I'm going to get from a relationship here? We're children, so there is no sexual pleasures, no hugging, holding hands or any of that junk in this school to be honest.

I wasn't interested in reality boys, to be honest. I had my guy friends, and my romance in my fiction filled brain. Seriously, what was there to get out of reality romance? Except for nervousness and insecurities. In my head, I can control everything. I didn't really have to worry about anything. But in reality, you have to worry about keeping boys happy with you so that they don't leave you for someone better, deal with the anxiety of knowing that since your in middle school your relationship most likely won't last, no matter how hard you try, there's nothing you can do.

"Juliunna!" I heard a loud yell, and my head snapped upwords to look across the field. Brandy Thomas, a girl in my class that used to be a nobody, now a 'somebody' in the social club. She doesn't like me, and our relationship is totally vice versa. You will never get anywhere in life without intelligence, and she's in dire need of it. If you were to ask me, I think she has a depressing future raising two kids on her own and working the streets .

"Juliunna! Best friend!" Brandy shouted braggingly. I looked up to meet Brandy's eye defiantly, her friends smirking inbetween us. I rolled my eyes but bit my lip when the new kid looked up. She started shouting again, this time jumping up and down as if she was a cheerleader. Oh wait, is she a cheerleader?

"Thomas, back to the stands!" My male gym teacher called, and Brandy blew a sarcastic kiss my way. She then prounced back to the stands, her monkey friends right behind her, chortling and laughing. The new kid looked to me, and then back to the stands. I pressed my back tight against the column when he stood up and started walking towards me. "No, no, no, no," I whispered to myself softly as he got nearer. I inwardly smiled at myself for actually wearing my good tight black sweatpants. Along with Christian's huge black jacket. I never go out in public without a jacket anymore. I guess even though I tell myself I don't care about conformity or vanity, there's still a part of me that's self conscious about letting everyone see my arms. Yes, I know its weird but I'll go full sexy when I'm an adult, just not now. The new kid leaned up against the column next to me. At first he was silent, but then after a few seconds of the both of us just staring at crowd of flouncing children, he spoke.

"So, your not doing Gym either?" He asked me, and I pursed my lips. "Yeah." I said strongly, wishing my palms would stop sweating. "Why?" He asked, and I smirked.

"I just don't care for it." I said, and he stared at me for a few seconds. How I wish my skin was too dark for blushing. But sadly it's the color of the lightest tint of caramel. "Me too." He said. I nodded, and then kept my eyes trained on the column across from me. Count the tiles. One, two, three, four-!

"So your name is… Juliunna?" He asked, and I took the most quietest deep breath I could take. "Um, yeah. I'm sorry, I never caught your name." I said, and he held out his hand. "I'm Nathan." He said, and I smiled. "Nathon. That's a pretty beautiful name." I said nicely, and then blushed again. Five tiles, six tiles, seven tiles-!

"Thanks. Never thought about it that way." He said with the first smile I had seen him wear. It was small but true, weak but heated. It was beauty in a deadly form. We were in silence again for about a minute, when he finally turned to me again.

"Listen, I'm not much of a social person," He started, and I raised up a hand to cut him off. "It's okay. Neither am I. I'm alright with silence, so don't feel bad about it." I said, and he nodded, a smile on his face.

"Thanks. That sounds nice." He said. And then we stared at the columns again. I kept my face staring straight ahead, and counted columns. Every once and a while, I could feel Nathan's heated, dead gaze on my face. But I decided to think rather then look at him. He was tall, almost as tall as Tyler. Maybe 5"8 at the least. I let my eyes shift to the left of my vision, and so a skinny silver watch glinting in the sunlight. I wanted to ask him the time, but every time I thought about it, my mouth got so dry and scatchy I couldn't talk!

He was tracing the cover of his book with his finger, and then l=et his hand drop. His fingers brushed the back of my palm lightly, and my fingers itched. I have never been this close to a boy before in such a romantic or exotic way. (Tyler doesn't count!) I don't remember having such intense feelings about a boy like this in reality.

"Well," He said, pulling away his hand quickly as I went stiff as a wet cat. I bit my tongue. "Its 12:45. We can go in now." He said, and I smiled. "Thanks." I nodded to him, and we both pushed open the doors and made our way through. "So, what class do you have?" He asked. I bit my lip softly.

"Err, homeroom 106. What about you Nathan?" I asked. He shrugged lightly.

"Science." He said, taking a quick glance at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Sucks." He added, and the both of us walked off to the left of the room, avoiding the crowd of large children pushing and racing to get to the locker rooms.

"Heh, I don't know. Science is one of my best subjects, probably because I value intelligence and its easier to get it right better then everyone else. What science class do you have?" I asked.

"Hutnick." He said, and I hissed symthetically for him. "Yeah, I've never been in that class before, but I do go out at 1:20 for Woodruff's science class. We only have five kids, but yours has thirty." I said, and he nodded slightly. The both of us stopped walking when we got to the front door. "We've still got to wait four minutes-!"

"I know." I said softly, and he nodded to me. Up ahead, Brandy and Brittney were standing beside each other, both smirking at me. I shrugged and then turned to look at the big display clock on the wall. "Err… Are they your friends?" Nathan said, raising an eyebrow at me. With a sigh I looked up to see both girls jumping up and down and waving at me.

"No."

"Well do you know them?" He asked as the girls burst into laughter the second I looked away from them, as if they had just won a triumphant battle.

Just wait for your future girls, we'll see who's winning.

"Sadly. But we're not on a first name basics if that's what your asking. I don't like to associate myself with dim witted fools." I said rather loudly, and then opened the large double doors. Nathan followed me. "Wait a minute, don't you care about getting in trouble?" Nathan asked. And I shook my head no. I opened the doors to the nurse and walked inside.

"Not really. Besides, I need to take my medication." I said, and the nurse silently sets the small Dixie cup up on top of her desk. I grab it softly and then proceed to the sink. Nathan follows me, but then takes out his black notebook and starts doodling in it.

"What are you writing?" I asked, and he looked up. I love the blank look on his face, its somehow oddly appealing and pleasuring at the same time. "Writing… Stories." He added, and I inwardly smiled. Wow, he likes to write stories just like me. Does he have any faults?

"Quick question Nathan." I said, popping the pill out of the cup and holding it carefully in my palm. I flipped on the faucet and lukewarm water poured into the plastic cup. "Shoot." He said nicely. I took a deep breath.

"What is the strength within you that you most value in the world? Is it bravery, the ability to lie, intelligence-!"

"My ability to not care about the world or life itself. But intelligence is also important. It leads to power." Oh my. "Anyway, I have to go. Maybe I'll see you later." He said, and I placed the pill in my mouth. I drowned the cup in one gulp, a soft grimace on my face. This water is disgusting.

"Um, yeah. Bye Nathan. I hope you like it here, there aren't many guys like you around." Heh, there aren't any guys like you around this school, or my whole town as far as I'm concerned.

"Yeah, I can see that." He said, and then jetted his chin towards the door, where there were a crowd of boys at the water fountain outside the door, making crude innendoes. There were six boys. All of them fourteen years old. "Hey!" One of them gasped fakily, and then pointed Nathan and I's way. There were whispers, fast and loud whispers, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. What is going on today?! Normally I'm just ignored!

"Oh go jack off!" I heard someone snap as they neared the door, and smirked. "Come on." I said to Nathan, and the two of us started off for the door. When we reach it, I rounded the corner to run into Madaija and Taylor. "What are you two doing here?" I asked, but bit my lip nauseously when Nathan rounded the three of us and speedily walked around the corner.

"Oh, we went on ahead. We're going to the gym. Gym time remember?" Taylor said excitedly, and then turned to the group of boys, who had stopped to look at us.

"Hey." Dom whispered, and I looked at him with squinted eyes. "What?"

"What's the freak doing with the newest freak?" He asked, and I grimaced in place. Taylor leaned down, pulled off her solid and expensive sneakers, and then threw them hard at Dominick. He squealed and fell to the ground as he got hit hard.

"Idiots. Get the heck out of here!" Taylor shouted, and then started to slowly but mockingly pull off her other shoe. "Ah!" The boys screamed with laughter, enjoying it when Madaija threw her makeup bag at them. It fell promptly inches away from one boys foot.

That night I have trouble falling asleep. The dormitory used to seem loud to me, with all the breathing, but now it is too quiet. When it's quiet, I think about m y family. Thank God the Dauntless compound is usually loud. If my mother was Dauntless, why did she choose Abnegation? Did she love its peace, its routine, its goodness—all the things I miss, when I let myself think about it? I wonder if some one here knew her when she was young and could tell me what she was like then. Even if they did, they probably wouldn't want to discuss her. Faction transfers are not really supposed to discuss their old factions once they become members. It's supposed to make it easier for them to change their allegiance from family to faction—to embrace the principle "faction before blood." I bury my face in the pillow. She asked me to tell Caleb to research the simulation serum—why? Does it have something to do with me being Divergent, with me being in danger, or is it something else?

I sigh. I have a thousand questions, and she left before I could ask any o f them. Now they swirl in my head, and I doubt I'll be able to sleep until I can answer them. I hear a scuffle across the room and lift my head from the pillow. My eyes aren't adjusted to the dark, so I stare into pure black, like the backs of my eyelids. I hear shuffling and the squeak of a shoe. A heavy thud. And then a wail that curdles my blood and makes my hair stand on end. I throw the blankets back and stand on the stone floor with bare feet. I still can't see well enough to find the source of the scream, but I see a dark lump on the floor a few bunks down. Another scream pierces my ears. "Turn on the lights!" someone shouts. I walk toward the sound, slowly so I don't trip over anything.

I feel like I'm in a trance. I don't want to see where the screaming is coming from. A scream like that can only mean blood and bone and pain; that scream that comes from the pit of the stomach and extends to every inch of the body. The lights come on.

Edward lies on the floor next to his bed, clutching at his face. Surrounding his head is a halo of blood, and jutting between his clawing fingers is a silver knife handle. My heart thumping in my ears, I recognize it as a butter knife from the dining hall. The blade is stuck in Edward's eye. Myra, who stands at Edward's feet, screams. Someone else screams too, and someone yells for help, and Edward is still on the floor, writhing and wailing. I crouch by his head, my knees pressing to the pool of blood, and put my hands on his shoulders. "Lie still," I say. I feel calm, though I can't hear anything, like my head is submerged in water. Edward thrashes again and I say it louder, sterner. "I said, lie still. Breathe." "My eye!" he screams. I smell something foul. Someone vomited. "Take it out!" he yells. "Get it out, get it out of me, get it out!"

I shake my head and then realize that he can't see me. A laugh bubbles in my stomach. Hysterical. I have to suppress hysteria if I'm going to help him. I have to forget myself. "No," I say. "You have to let the doctor take it out. Hear me? Let the doctor take it out. And breathe." "It hurts," he sobs. "I know it does." Instead of my voice I hear my mother's voice. I see her crouching before me on the sidewalk in front of our house, brushing tears from my face after I scraped my knee. I was five at the time. "It will be all right." I try to sound fir m, like I'm not idly reassuring him, but I am. I don't know if it will be all right.

I suspect that it won't. When the nurse arrives, she tells me to step back, and I do. My hands and knees are soaked with blood. When I look around, I see that only two faces are missing. Drew. And Peter.

After they take Edward away, I carry a change of clothes into the bathroom and w ash my hands. Christina comes with me and stands by the door, but she doesn't say anything, and I'm glad. There isn't much to say. I scrub at the lines in my palms an d run one fingernail under my other fingernails to get the blood out. I change into the pants I brought and throw the soiled ones in the trash. I get as many pa per towels as I can hold. Someone needs to clean up the mess in the dormitory, and since I doubt I'll ever be able to sleep again, it might as well be me. As I re ach for the door handle, Christina says, "You know who did that, right?" "Yeah." "Should w e tell someone?" "You really think the Dauntless will do anything?" I say. "After they hung you over the chasm? After they made us beat each other unconscious?" She doesn't say anything. For a half hour after that, I kneel alone on the floor in the dormitory and scrub at Edward's blood. Christina throws away the dirty paper towels and gets me new ones. Myra is gone; she probably followed Edward to the hospital.

No one sleeps much that night.

…

I glumly awake on the hospital bed, ready for an era of boredom. I just need to get through this boring kidnapping scene so that I can get back to my fun Divergent world again. I had been counting tiles on the wall when the door slammed open. I looked up glumly.

"Hello Eric. And you must be Jeanine." I said drowsily, and I let out a small yawn. The both of them gathered around my bed the short woman holding a clip board in her hands.

"What is it that's wrong with her? She seems like a normal cranky teenager." Jeanine said, and Eric yawned. "I'm telling you Jeanine, she launched that kid twice the size of her all the way across the room with a single punch! And then laughed about it! She's not normal." Eric said in a scary, leering voice. Jeanine looked to me with a small look.

"Listen honey, Eric here seems to think that there is something abnormal about you, maybe even supernatural. I just want to run a few tests on you, and as my nurses have already told you, it might take a while. We also have reason to believe that since you weren't afraid in the slightest and even laughed when you jumped off the Dauntless Building during your initiation, and knew a lot of things about Dauntless that a non Dauntless person would know, you might have accessed secret files of Dauntless Headquearters property." Jeanine said in a slightly bored voice, and I fought back the grin that wanted to wedge itself onto my face.

"Guys right? They just can't accept that a girl has more intelligence then them." I said with a sly grin, and Jeanine nodded. "Ain't that the truth."

"What?! Jeanine, I swear. There is something up with her! She's insane!"

"I like to read and learn, did you ever think that I could have read about Dauntless surroundings in a book? Or have a cousin or family member that I visited on Visiting Day in pass years. Or I don't know. Maybe I laugh when I should be scared, because that's the best way for me to get through them. The more I tell myself I don't care, the more I realize that I don't care…" I ended my speech softly. Jeanine started writing down what I said on her clipboard. "That's good." She said. Eric glared at me heatedly, but I just smirked.

"Okay Juliunna, come with me. I'd like to get you out by tomorrow. Maybe even today. And you," Jeanine said, and then gripped Eric tight on his left ear. He winced and grimaced hard. I could see his biceps flex slightly, and I figured that his training was trying to kick in. But he also knew that if he did hit Jeanine he would be in great big trouble.

"If you are wrong about her, and her stimulations and tests don't prove anything your saying, you will be punished." She snarled, and Eric went pale. I almost felt bad for him. Except then I remembered that he was the one who tried to get me jailed and possibly killed, and now I'm mad at him.

She let go of Eric with a loud snap, and then leaned over to pull my restraints free. "Now, we're going to start with a physical. I want your blood test, and then I'm going to have you do combat with my newest trainee guard. Try your best. I'm not looking for you to win, but what I am looking for is my business. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear." Jeanine said wisely, and then pulled my wrists restraints free. When I stood up, she watched me closely with her small, beady eyes. Okay, this is the moment of the hour. Its time for me to pay attention and do this well.

Just keep your indifference a secret, and everything will be okay.

…

"Its okay honey, just punch him." Jeanine called loudly from her spot against the wall. I was shaking in the middle of the floor. The man in front of me was about seven foot tall, and looked to be a great fighter. He was a trained kick boxer, and loved to clench his large fists. Just one of his was the size of two of mine.

"Listen kid, we've been here for a while. Just give me a little kick on the leg." The guard whispered to me, and I frowned. Alright, just take the beating. Take the friggen beating and then get on with your dream.

I gave him a small kick on the ankle, and then he grabbed my knees tightly. "Ahh!" I screamed as he swept me off my feet. My face was filled with real fear, much to Eric's anger. He shouted at Jeanine. "She's faking it! She's faking it!" He screamed, and Jeanine held up a hand to silence him. The man picked me up and swung me around. "Ahh!" I screamed as he let go of my knees, and then I swung across the floor.

"No more!" I screamed, and I couldn't help but inwardly congratulated myself on my great acting. This is what years of bad attitude and counting on no one but yourself gets you. A lot of intelligence, and a few close friends that love you and you know you can actually trust.

"Please, please no! I'm smart, not a fighter!" I screamed as the man pressed his foot softly into my stomach. Jeanine wrote down something on her clipboard, and then raised a walkie talkie to her ear.

"Hello, can we get a calming drought down here? Patient 102 is getting hysterical." She announced, and I rolled over and screamed in a tearfully cry.

Man am I a great actor today!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 1:

**Normal Pov**

"Tyler, come on." I said in a bored drawl. I had received a phone call from the Principal last night. Tyler needed a tutor, and she had honorably suggested me. I couldn't say no of course. Not when she was speaking so highly to me and saying stuff like how she was going to recommend me to high officials if I excel and get him to pass.

"So, you came crawling back to me right beautiful?" Tyler said, standing up. He towered over me and pressed a kiss to my cheek. I glowered. "Ew. Get off younger."

"Your sparkly cast looks hot." Tyler said, smiling at me widely. I frowned. "I don't think that's funny. Come with me into the library room, and I'll show you what we'll be doing." I said, ignoring the cat calls from his male friends sitting at the table. Tyler shushed them, and then walked in step with me. When we exited the cafeteria, Tyler smirked at me. "So, what are we doing? Kissing? Touching? Putting the sofa in the back of the library to good use-!"

"You'll see big boy." I murmured, taking out the large binder in my purse. I closed the one hundred dollar purse and then stopped in front of the library door double doors. I smirked. Tyler had the door open wide. "Ladies first."

I walked inside, and strode over to the biggest table in the back of the room. Tyler followed me excitedly, grinning.

"Ooh Tyler. Your just going to burst when you see what I have for you." I murmured huskily, sitting down at the table. Tyler's breath hitched a little when he sat next to me. I held out my hand and put it on his shoulder, breathing in with a wide and sexy smile.

"Oh really. I think I have an idea of what it is." Tyler murmured, and with one hand, I lifted up the folder and smacked it onto the table hard, making him jump.

"Hey! Hey…" He frowned. With a laugh I took my hand off his shoulder and then looked downwards. I opened the folder and started taking out papers.

"What we will be doing is a tutoring session that will stretch over five weeks. One in the morning and one in the afternoon on Monday thru Friday. Both sessions per day will be during school. On weekday, we will be doing home visits. I'll come to you on weekends, we can always work out a time with your parents-!"

"Your sexy-!"

"I'm thorough. So anyway, let's make up a schedule. You are failing, and Mrs. Santoro wants you out of her school. I have nine weeks to get you high school ready little boy. Look at this study planner." I said, putting the day planner out of my purse and onto the table. Tyler scowled and leaned forward.

"We'll start next week, okay? Monday is science, Tuesday is history, Wednesday is language arts, Thursday is behavior, cycles, and social skills, and Friday is test day." I said, and Tyler bit his lip. "What? Test day? I'm getting a test?"

"Every Friday for the next nine weeks. And then you take your final exam. You also have homework." I said nicely. Tyler hissed in anger. "What?! And who gives you the right to quiz and test me-!"

"Mrs. Santoro. Our principal you dunce. Now please do us all a favor and shut up as I explain." I smiled. He smirked with a shrug. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Now listen, you want to pass this grade, correct bad little boy?" I asked him. He smiled and nodded excitedly. "Of course. If it means I get to go with you of course." He smiled. I shook my head with a frown. "No, sadly Tyler the pervert, I'm going to A.C.I.T. Not Buena Regional High School, you idiot. Now, if you don't mind." I started, looking pass him at the cute and lonely boy near the back, he was currently flipping through pages of his notebook. "I've got to go meet my friend." I said. I pushed the planner towards him and walked off towards my gothic friend. His name is Nathan. He's handsome and better then my lost puppy, who's right behind me. "That freak-!"

"Shut it right now freak." I snapped at him. I strode over to Nathan, and with a small chuckle, he looked up from his book. "Hearty handshake my friend?" He chuckled dryly. I giggled and let Nathan's large hand enclose around my small one. "So, what are you doing in the library?" I asked him, curious but also knowing exactly what he was doing here. "Let's take a seat little one." Nathan laughed. He put his notebook inside his black hoodie pocket, and the three of us moved over to the table Tyler and I had currently been sitting at.

"I'm Nathan." Nathan said heartily, holding out his hand to Tyler. I stared at Tyler softly as Tyler glowered at Nathan. "Nathan… What a stupid name."

"Tyler!" I snapped. He frowned heatedly. "What?!" He snapped. "Don't be such a jealous prick." I snapped. "Hey Nathan, you didn't answer me what you did."

"Oh, I wanted to get away from the lunch room. The noise and all the chatter was making me angry-!"

"Stupid-!"

"That's funny." I said with a smirk. "I very much try to resist the other happiness and useless chatter."

"Its nice to sit in miserable silence every once in a while. Well, miserability for others is happiness for both of us, I assume correctly?"

"You assumed wrong-!"

"Tyler! Nathan you assume right. Have you ever heard of the poem about the mockingbird who loved on the windowsill-!"

"Of the smart man who lived in fear of birds. He was a scientist and stubborn and funny as he tried to get it away."

"He invented a machine that, done correctly would issue a sharp stinging noise that only the bird would hear, that would scare it away-!"

"But it cracked his window and only caused him what was undeniably a hundred or so dollars in repairment. And when he opened the window to scare it away-!"

"It flew onto his spot!" We finished together, and we both laughed. Tyler looked absolutely hurt and astonished. "What…What the heck are you two talking about."

"The big bang theory television show!" Both Nathan and me announced. We both chuckled when Tyler fumed.

"Okay, okay. Jules and I have to go back to lunch now." Tyler said. He was biting his tongue hard.

"Well, we can always go, together." Nathan reached out and held a piece of my hair between his fingers, a smile on his face. He let his fingers stroked the softness of the long strands, as he dropped it. Tyler bit his lip hard, and when I turned lightly to see his face, a saw a small drop of blood gather on his lip. He hissed in pain. "Oh crap. Tyler your such a child. Sorry Nathan, I've got to go. I've got to tutor this idiot and his life is currently my responsibility." I said, I stood up and grabbed Tyler by the ear. He hissed in pain again.

…

**Beatrice/Tris Pov**

"This is going to sound weird," Will says, "But I wish we didn't have a day off today." I nod. I know what he means. Having something to do would distract me, and I could use a distraction right now. I have not spent much time alone with Will, but Christina and All are taking naps in the dormitory, and neither of us wanted to be in that room longer than we had to. Will didn't tell me that; I just know. I slide one fingernail under another. I washed my hands thoroughly after cleaning up Edward's blood, but I still feel like it's on my hands. Will and I walk with no sense of purpose. There is nowhere to go. "We could visit him," suggests Will. "But what would we say? 'I didn't know you that well, but I'm sorry you got stabbed in the eye'?" It isn't funny. I know that as soon as he says it, but a laugh rises in my throat anyway, and I let it out because it's harder to keep it in. Will stares at me for a second, and then he laughs too. Sometimes crying or laughing are the only options left, and laughing feels better right now. "Sorry," I say. "It's just so ridiculous."

I don't want to cry for Edward—at least not in the deep, personal way that you cry for a friend or loved one. I want to cry because something terrible happened, and I saw it, and I could not see a way to mend it. No one who would want to punish Peter h as the authority to, and no one who has the authority to punish him would want t o. The Dauntless have rules against attacking someone like that, but with people like Eric in charge, I suspect those rules go unendorsed. I say, more seriously, "The most ridiculous part is, in any other faction it would be brave of us to tell someone what happened. But here…in Dauntless…bravery won't do us any good." "Have you ever read the faction manifestos?" says Will.

The faction manifestos were written after the factions formed. We learned about them in school, but I never read them. "You have?" I frown at him. Then I remember that Will once memorized a map of the city for fun, and I say. "Oh. Of course you have. Never mind."

"One of the lines I remember from the Dauntless manifesto is, _'We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another'._'" Will sighs. He doesn't need to say anything else. I know what he means. Maybe Dauntless was formed with good intentions, with the right ideals and the right goals. But it has strayed far from them. And the same is true of Erudite, I realize. A long time ago, Erudite pursued knowledge and ingenuity for the sake of doing good. Now they pursue knowledge and ingenuity with greedy hearts. I wonder if the other factions suffer from the same problem. I have not thought about it before. Despite the depravity I see in Dauntless, though, I could not leave it. It isn't only because the thought of living factionless, in complete isolation, sounds like a fate worse than death. It is because, in the brief moments that I have loved it here, I saw a f action worth saving. Maybe we can become brave and honorable again. "Let's go to the cafeteria," Will says, "and eat cake."

"Okay." I smile. As we walk toward the Pit, I repeat the line Will quoted to myself so I don't forget it.

I believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.

It is a beautiful thought.

Later, when I return to the dormitory, Edward's bunk is stripped clean and his drawers are open, empty. Across the room, Myra's bunk looks the same way. When I ask Christina where they went, she says, "They quit."

"Even Myra?"

"She said she didn't want to be here without him. She was going to get cut anyway." She shrugs, like she can't think of anything else to do. If that's true, I know how she feels. "At least they didn't cut Al." All was supposed to get cut, but Edward's departure saved him. The Dauntless decided to spare him until the next stage. "Who else got cut?" I say. Christina shrugs again. "Two of the Dauntless-born. I don't remember their names." I nod and look at the blackboard. Someone drew a line through Edward and Myra's names, and changed the numbers next to everyone else's names. Now Peter is first. Juliunna is second, and Will is third is third.

I am fifth. We started stage one with nine initiates. Now we have eight. It's a shame.

"Tris!" I heard. Molly was smiling at me cruelly and wildly, waving her hand back and fourth.

"What?!" I snapped at her. She was standing against the wall in the hallway. She pointed down the hall at two figures at the base of the dark tunnel. When they came out, my eyes widened. Eric had his hand wrapped around Juliunna's wrist, dragging her along the wall.

"Juliunna!" I called out, and she looked up at me on impulse. Our eyes locked and within the next second, Eric tugged on her wrist hard and rough. She stumbled slightly but managed to hold her ground. She nodded at me, and then snapped something at Eric I couldn't hear. I walked forward a little, but then the hallway doors snapped open.

Juliunna looked up and squeaked, and people started to backward pedal, frightened at the people in the doorway on both sides. This doesn't seem good. They were all men. I could tell because they had the body figure of men. They were all dressed in the same silver and grey armor, with helmets. They were all in a line and looked to be in battle ready form. They were an army.

"Ugh…" Juliunna said as the leader in each line raised their long sword like axes. "Release the prisoner." The one in front commanded.

"Oh no! Mixed dreaming." Juliunna said when Eric released her arm. They strode forward and one grabbed her arm, and then started guiding her out the door. We are Dauntless. We should fight. We stand for bravery! But then again, we don't have to be Erudite to know that fighting the hundreds of guards on either side would be pointless and only result in causalities.

"Are we going into space now?" Juliunna asked the one next to her as they marched her into the hall. "Yes." The man she had asked replied coolly, and then the doors were shut, disappearing in one solid march, the soldiers on either side marched off. When the doors were shut, Will finally spoke.

"What… Just… Happened?"

**Ending it with a cliffy and a possible story combination of a well known fanfiction inspiration.**

**Hi. It's the Author here. If you'd like to see more of my Pov of stories, like Beatrice and I (But mostly me), then check out my other story, Life at Hogwarts (Meaning mine of course). I have two fanfiction accounts. BellatrixRemairaBlack, and ButterflyBillarius. The Harry Potter story is on BellatrixRemairaBlack account. This story is more popular then I though it would be. I hope you guys like to see my other story. **

**Loves, **

**ButterflyBillarius.**


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